Dragon God Chronicles II: Resurrection
by Jessi D
Summary: After the first book of the Chronicles a deity is dead, a cleric is dying and a warrior forced to act the whore. All seems lost for the Lord of Dragons.
1. Chapter I

**Jessi: I do not own Forgotten Realms.** Oddly enough this story is part two of the Dragon God Chronicles, so to understand what's going on you need to read part one first. If you have then you can read this one with a vague idea of what's happening, with my promise that I'll try and make this the best story so far.

Thank you for reading and don't forget to leave a review.

* * *

It was strangly peaceful lying there on the forest floor amoung the fallen leaves and the grass. The gaping wound in her belly didn't hurt anymore, which, as any cleric knows, was not a good sign. The blood running from the injury was much paler in colour and Vale watch it flow about her loosened hands and soak into the earth. 

Her healing powers were gone, forever now with the death of her god. She had never carried healing potions with her... she'd always realied on her clerical spells... and on Chel.

She'd seen Chel dart towards her, his outstreched hands glowing with healing magic. He had tried, but he had been taken.

Vale felt a strange sensation come over her, what the holy books called the loosing of the spirit she supposed. As her eyes closed she wished that Chel could be here with her and then there was floating.

Abruptly pain tore through the young elf, white-hot agony threatening to split her skull open. She found her voice, and her screaming echoed through the forest.

* * *

As soon as Chel felt solid ground underneath his feet he sprang at the masked female, a scream of pure rage on his lips. His claws came to his fingers and his teeth lengthened into fangs. 

This bitch had killed Vale and she would suffer for it.

Two lizardmen seized him, one on each arm but both learnt than the strength of the winged elf was greater than theirs. Both reptillan warriors were flung off and the male elf leapt for the first one. His hand plunged down through hide and flesh, seizing,twisting.

A roar escaped Chel's throat and he held aloft the still-faintly beating heart, his pale skin red with blood.

Understandably the other lizardman backed off and expression of fear on its scaly face.

The male elf dropped the heart and advanced on the masked female, only for the other lizardman to rediscover his courage and seize a handful of white hair.

A bestial howl came from the lizardman as he found he held not soft alabastar hair but razor sharp metal. Chel's mane writhed in the air like a basket of snakes and struck the lizardman across the throat, opening it up and killing the reptiallan warrior immediently.

His hair now long strands of steel, sharper than the best swords, Chel turned back to the robed woman, mouth twisting into a snarl. She stood there, her eyes, through the slits in the dark mask, showing no fear,

"You _are_ an interesting one. Not just a pretty face I see," she laughed.

"You will not be laughing soon. I promise you," the winged elf's eyes narrowed.

A crash sounded behind him and Chel half-turned. From the darkness came a pair of monstrous hands, made of a silvery metal. They clutched at him, one around his slim waist and another around his ribs. Hissing the winged elf realised that he was in the grasp of a golem.

The masked female stepped up to him, something in her hands. She shook her head and snapped a collar-and-chain around his neck.

Chel immediently felt the weakening effects of the chains. His teeth and nails returned to normal and his hair fell softly about him, once more. The golem released him and the winged elf slid to the floor.

"You are mine now. You will do well to remember it," she lifted his head, studying her new prize. His lovely face glared up at her, pale blue-green eyes filled with mingled rage and sorrow.

A troop of lizardmen enetered the room and two of them forced Chel to stand. The female spoke again,

"I am the Dark Lady and it is my chains that steal away any magic you might have. That reminds me," she took a dagger from a near-by table, "you still need to be punished for the death of my two warriors." She spoke a few gutteral words to the other lizardmen and another two went forward. Each seized one of Chel's white, seraphic wings and spread them as far as they would go.

As the Dark Lady walked forward Chel realized what she was going to do and he bowed his head to hide his pain and humiliation.

The dagger tore at his robes, the material falling from his slender form. Next, she walked around to his back and Chel braced himself for the pain that would come.

Her blade stabbed into his back at the base of one wing. The muscles were reduced to shreds and feathers fell onto the floor before she moved onto the next one. The agony was almost to great for Chel to bear as well as the grief of losing his wings.

The chains blocked his regeneration also.

Finally it was over and he was freed from the reptiles' grasp to tumble to the floor limply. His captor dragged his head upwards,

"Pretty little slut," she sneered and then kissed him, her teeth biting through his lip and the blood filling his mouth.


	2. Chapter II

**Jessi: **Sorry for the shortness of this chapter but I just feel drained this week. I will make it up to you all.

* * *

Chel had no doubt what his new role as a slave was going to be. After his multilation he had been taken to a wide chamber, carved out of the bedrock. His chain was attached to the wall, too short for him to leave the wide, silk covered bed but loose enough so he could sit, stand or lie down. 

The pale elf spat angrily, noting the blood that still trickled from his mouth. He would spend a lot of time on his back as the Dark Lady's slave. For the warrior this was almost to much.

A madman he may be... self-harmer and freak, yes, but he was _no one's_ whore.

Chel lay on the covers, curling up into a ball. Ignoring the pain from his maimed back and his bitten lips he let his mind travel back to Vale. The male elf could visualise her clearly in his mind, the delicate heart-shaped face, glittering eyes and wide grin beneath a mane of white-blond hair.

But with that image came another. Her fragile hands clutching at the gaping wound in her stomach and her blood staining the ground.

_Vale... I could not save you... Forgive me,_ Chel reached for his neck before remembering that they had taken his holy symbol.

"This could be so much easier," the masked female had returned, standing at the bedside, "The rewards are great for one who'll serve me, especially one so pretty."

"Serving you? You mean you want me to be your whore," Chel uncurled and sat up, his anger returning to swamp his sorrow, "Even if I would do such a thing I doubt you could afford me."

The Dark Lady made a gesture and the pale elf was suddenly lifted off the covers as if by a giant, invisible hand. With utter calmness she floated up until she was at eye level with him,

"You seem to forget that you have no choice in the matter. I've already taken your wings and if you continue to disobey me..." she leisurely stroked his face, "Maybe your eyes next or just the one so you can still see _everything_ I do to you," her mouth formed into a crooked grin and she wrapped the chain tightly around Chel's delicate neck, "I could take you right now, while the life flees from you..." she released the chain and let the male fall back onto the covers, coughing weakly.

She knelt beside him, wrapping her arm's around him in a parody of a lover's embrace and leant forward to whisper into his ear,

"You are mine to use as I wish," her hands formed into the same claws that killed Vale and began to tear away the ragged remains of his robes and the breeches he wore underneath them. Chel shuddered, her hands felt like those of a corpse.

"And don't think of resisting... I have potions enough to get what I want," the female smiled behind her mask and then bit deeply into his shoulder.


	3. Chapter III

Jessi: Again, sorry for the delay but these exams are very important. Also I know that some people have been getting confused. Please could you point out anything that is confusing and I will attempt to make it clearer. Thank you.

* * *

Samera's eyes scanned the shadows under the tangled brair carefully before turning back to his twin,

"Still nothing Ker'." The other paladin shook his head sadly,

"Why all of them? Vale wouldn't just leave us like this."

"Yes, but how well do we know that white-haired one? He could have taken her and Kemi."

"Sam..." Keroigar sighed"His name is Chel. The least you could do is use it," when his brother glared at him the quieter paladin continued, "Vale trusts him and loves him... That's good enough for me... why can't you..."

"Ker' you seen him fight. He's no more than an animal... a freak."

"A freak... like us you mean?" The aasimar's golden eyes flashed briefly on a memory of pain before turning to watch the path ahead.

Samera winched, his own memories no less painful. A small flash of movement caught his attention and his head turned, sword already half-drawn.

"Vale!"

From the darkness emerged a little figure, head hanging limply and arms dangling loosely. As her head rolled upwards to observe the paladin the changes became painfully apparent. The cleric's skin had been a golden colour yesterday, now it was an ashen sulphur colour. Her eyes were red-rimmed and grey circles ran underneath the dull orbs.

"Vale..." Keroigar was no less shocked by the elf's apperance.

"Yes Ker'," her voice was a hoarse whispher, "Who else would it be?"

The senses of both paladins were screaming at them. There was nothing evil about the female but... When they looked into her eyes it was not Vale looking back at them.

"Where has Chel gone? Kemi?"

The female looked at them before her face crumbled. She covered her face with her hands but was unsucessful in fully covering up her tears,

"Taken... Chel was taken..."

"But where?"

Vale's tear-stained face rose from her palms,

"Waterdeep... Mount Waterdeep."

* * *

Chel hissed as the teeth dug into the flesh of his shoulder, a fresh burst of pain coming into existence. It seemed that without his regeneration powers he felt every wound that much clearly, knowing that it would not heal.

As the Dark Lady bit deeper his back arched, as he tried to struggle away.

Snarling his captor pulled sharply back on his hair until the pale elf was lying prone the masked female glaring down at him through the slits in her mask.

"_What did I say about resisting!"_ she cuffed him roughly across his face and as Chel brought his head back up he noticed that her teeth were filed down into points. Each was covered in his own blood.

His vision swam before his eyes, the blood merging with the black hair and mask as he sprialled into darkness.

"...Vale..." then Chel fell unconsious and he knew no more.


	4. Chapter IV

**Jessi:** _Please, please_ do not post a reveiw telling me about Tiamat. I am aware of that goddess. For purposes of the story the dragon pantheon has been changed so please be patient and all will be explained.

* * *

Chel's eyes opened and immediently he threw his hand over his face. Sunlight shone down onto him, seeming far brighter than normal... 

Sunlight?

The pale elf shot up. He'd just risen from a bed of long grass, slightly flattened from where he'd been lying down. From his position he was looking down a gently sloping hillside which flattened out at the shores of a crystal lake. Mountain ranges ran in two curving lines before merging at the other end of the valley. Chel knew that they formed an indentical area behind him. The golden light of late afternoon hung over the entire scene and the smells of summer filled the air.

He knew this place, he knew this hillside and he knew the vast forest that completely filled the valley. When Vale had left this, the place of her birth, he had followed...

But...

He remembered the cave... the sharp contours of that ghoulish mask... the voice that had whispered pretty slut.

His fingers touched his mouth where the Dark Lady's teeth had bitten through. There was no trace of blood, nor a healing wound. His lips were whole. On his back were his white, seraphic wings and he wore his robes once again.

"What is this? Did I finally go mad?" he put his head in his hands.

There was a rustling in the grass and a slight figure rose from a similar green bed,

"Hmm... What was that?"

Chel lifted his head and started. Sitting beside him was...

"Vale?"

It was her. There was no other like the little elf that Chel had fallen in love with. Her hair was loose and there was a wisp of grass trapped in the strands. Her eyes were half-closed against the sunlight. She wore a light kaftan of a pale blue colour and her sandels were lying abandoned in the grass. A lazy smile formed on her face,

"Of course. Who else would it be?"

The winged elf leant forward and touched her face gently. Vale took his hand in her own,

"Are you all right? I heard you when you were sleeping... that must have been a terrible dream."

"A dream... That's all it was?" Chel's eyes closed and he fell back onto the grass, "Thank Tiamet." A sigh of relief escaped him. When he opened his eyes again, Vale had moved beside him,

"I just glad that you're fine," a shy smile crept onto her face, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Chel extended his hand towards her, when she took it he pulled her into a warm embrace.

"I love you."

* * *

The moon had risen, shedding its light over the entire scene. Each individual feather in the male elf's wings had been turned into silver and his flesh glowed softly. His eyes had darkened, the slit pupils widening until the iris was just a thin ring of colour. 

Vale shivered slightly in the cool night air and from the pile of their discarded clothing Chel brought out his cloak and wrapped it around her bare shoulders.

She smiled gratefully and lifted her head to his ear. The pale elf did not see the wicked smile that flickered across her face and cocked his head to one side to hear better,

"See... I told you there was no point."

"What?" Chel's brow furrowed slightly and he turned to look at the blond elf. He could see her eyes shining... eyes that were now green, "Vale?"

The female smiled wickedly and the grin froze becoming a part of a dark, demonic mask. Chel's back and lips suddenly were alight with pain as wounds returned.

"I told you I had methods to get to what I want," the Dark Lady smoothly slid off the bed and threw a robe over her nude body. She glanced back at the pale elf, smiling, "Little slut."

As she left the room Chel fell back onto the covers trembling. Despite telling himself to resist he had failed anyway. And with what? A cheap illusion of his dead love? In his mind he saw Vale's face, wet with tears, her eyes angry at him for betraying her memory.

"Vale... I'm... so... so sorry," Chel looked up at the ceiling, a pathetic naked figure, blood drying on his back and face. He opened his mouth and screamed.


	5. Chapter V

**Jessi:** Wow! Has it really been over a month since I updated? All I can say is: thank God for Easter holidays. Thank you Sharkbite for reminding me!

* * *

Chel stumbled along, the chains and manacles around his ankles making him clumsy. He barely noticed as he was lead along by a pair of lizardmen. He was not even fully aware of the pain in his hand anymore. 

His new mistress, it still stung to say that word, had broken every slender finger on his left hand for trying to flee her attentions.

Now all that was Chel had retreated, everything that could be hurt had been drawn in. It was technique that had served him well in his unnaturally long life... Not everyone had been so kind as Vale... No one had ever been so kind as Vale.

Deep within himself the pale elf screamed at what he had lost.

* * *

"And how is my _favourite_ whore today?" the Dark Lady stepped down elegantly from a black carriage. When Chel didn't answer she slapped him roughly about the face. The pale elf dragged his head up, noticing for the first time his surroundings. 

They were in a huge cavern, filled with lizardmen, enough for a large army. All were armed in the same way as the lizardmen that had attacked them- chain mail armour, helmet and a long sword.

"Do you see my forces?" the Dark Lady lead him by the chain, up into the carriage, "We're going on a little trip," she purred into his ear, "And at the end I will have the power that was rightfully mine... After so long I will be...," she paused,"Now that would be telling now wouldn't it?"

She abruptly shoved the pale elf onto the floor, his head meeting the wall with a dull thud. As Chel shakily touched his head to check for injuries she leant closer,

"Know this, however. When I get my body back, this pathetic little dirt-ball of a world will be the first thing to go."

With that grim portent she turned and swept out of the carriage, closing the door behind.

* * *

Vale carefully extended her mind forward to touch at the walls of her prison. Just as before her consciousness was repelled, resulting in a growing pain. 

Since her guardian was linked to her telepathically he had taught how to manipulate that link. She could move her mind closer to his, so she could feel whispers of his emotions and thoughts- though she did not do this without permission, out of respect for his privacy. She could mesh with Chel's mind as well, a technique similar to that of moving her mind, but with a much higher sense of both their thoughts and feelings. And, of course, they could talk between themselves with telepathy.

Now she could not sense Chel at all. However, distressing as that was to the young cleric, it had to wait.

She was cut off from her own body by another mind: she had been possessed as her spirit had left her body.

* * *

_Vale's body was slowly growing numb, her spirit departing to whatever awaited her in the next life. As she shed her mortal body she was suddenly struck by how beautiful the world looked with different eyes. _

_Abruptly pain took her and she screamed. Deep within her broken body, her sorceress' power began to move. Something else began to manipulate it, sending it to the gaping hole in her stomach. The pain increased as the wound began to close, held together by raw magic. _

_When the pain died away, the young elf's body began to move, but not under Vale's control._

* * *

Vale curled up within the prison of her own mind. Again she wondered why this possessing force was taking her to Mount Waterdeep. 

_Chel... Please come back._


	6. Chapter VI

**Jessi:** I think I need to move the story on a bit... I have been concentrating on Chel being tortured for a while.

* * *

The lizardman army was driven on towards their destination. Whenever they went they dealt death and destruction. 

Chel could hear it all from the confines of the Dark Lady's carriage. He could smell the blood. He could smell the smoke from torched buildings. The fingers of his unbroken hand dug themselves into the material of the robe he'd been given.

It was made of a thin, grey material but at least it covered his nakedness. There were, of course, more important issues that being naked at the moment, but... He'd felt more depressed than ever since being tricked into sleeping with the Dark Lady. He felt dirty. He felt like...

"You are not a slut," he whispered under his breath, but his heart was not in it. Slowly over the past few days he had come to realise just how much he had depended on Vale's innocence and kind heart. He held these memories of her closest of all.

* * *

He was not sure how long he had slept, he only knew that he was still tired, both mentally and physically, when a lizardman roughly dragged him to his feet. With that same amount of care Chel was shoved out of the carriage and it was only after staggering a few paces that he was able to stand up straight. 

The Dark Lady stood in the middle of a circle of lizardmen and for a moment Chel wondered if he was expected to sleep with her in front of them. Behind her was a line of five lizardmen, all larger than average and with ropes of trophies as thick as Chel's waist. Tribal markings were painted on with what smelt like blood... fresh blood by its crimson colour. They were not wearing their armour and their only weapons were their claws, their teeth and a sheathed dagger.

"Tonight I have a little entertainment planned," the Dark Lady spoke not only to him but the entire assembly, "These five warriors, who have distinguished themselves by sacrificing the most innocents to _my _glory, will have a little challenge."

As she turned to look at the crowd Chel clenched his fists. _Sacrifice?_ She _dared_ put herself on level with the deities?

"Of course, I do not expect my warriors to have much trouble from the target. But for this prize," she lifted her hands. Strung in between them was a thick golden chain, studded with massive rubies, "the... _competition_ will be fierce," she gestered and the pale elf was dragged forward, "Your task will be to capture this elf after a headstart, of course."

She looked at him,

"Your time begins now."

With that Chel darted in the nearby forest, as fast as his battered body would allow.

* * *

As the pale elf moved amoungst the trees he felt his heart pounding. They had given him this chance to escape! They let him go! 

Far off in the distance his keen ears picked up the sounds of roars. The lizardmen were coming.

Without the collar on his neck he could have easily slain every lizardman in that army. Power that no one on this world had ever witnessed ran through his veins, only waiting for his command. But the collar lay there, a parasite sapping the magic from his body.

To the side he heard roars of anger and... pain? Changing his direction the elf, keeping close to cover, came towards those sounds.

On the ground a lizardman lay dead already, two others were fighting, their claws racking huge wounds in their opponent's hides, their teeth bared.

Something made Chel look up. There embedded in the wood of the tree was a dagger.


	7. Chapter VII

**Jessi:** A little free time between exams spawned this chapter. Just two weeks of exams left! Yey!

* * *

The winged elf glanced at the lizardmen and then back to the dagger. It was within easy reach, merely five feet above his head. He'd never needed a weapon before, his claws and fangs easily summoned in an instant. The collar, however, had taken them away from him. 

He would need a weapon for when they caught up to him. There was no doubt that they would. Lizardmen were notoriously good trackers, able to keep up the chase for days on end.

Chel had a crippled hand, a broken and battered body, no wings to carry him off to safety or magic defend himself.

Licking his lips nervously he reached for the dagger, easing himself up inch by torturous inch. The long fingers of his unbroken right hand brushed the plain wooden hilt before curling around it. His long ears twitched, listening for any sign that the battle to his left was ending.

The blade came free with no noise and, almost fainting with relief, Chel started to edge away.

Then he heard the growl. His entire body froze, his eyes widening. With infinite slowness he turned around.

A solitary lizardman stood there, all of its attention fixed firmly on the pale elf. With great deliberation it set one foot on the corpse of its fellow soldier, its muscles tensing, ready to pounce.

A howl floated into the clearing and, though it was lupine in origin, it was enough to turn the lizardman's head for a second. When the monster turned back Chel was gone.

* * *

Chel half-fell half-slid down a short slope then darted among the trees, forcing his legs to move faster as he heard the enraged roar echo out behind him. He used his small, slender body to his advantage, slipping through gaps that the much larger monster could not pass. 

Yet he could not move at any great speed. Without his wings to balance him it was hard enough to walk. Another problem was his hair. He'd never bothered much with it, and eventually it had grown down to brush the floor. Without the magic he used to make it move serpent-like, it caught on seemly every twig and branch.

Snarling, Chel yanked his head away, leaving yet another thick strand entangled in a tree. His hair loss problem had to wait though as he glimpsed a scaled head emerge from the undergrowth.

The pale elf ran on, eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead, until...

Chel halted. The trees thinned out here and the ground fell sharply away in a vertical drop. His heart pounding in his chest, the pale elf turned.

The reptilian warrior advanced slowly, claws spread out to either side. A forked tongue flicked out from beneath his teeth. As it approached Chel wondered briefly what would happen if he was struck a fatal blow now...

Would he die?

Closing his eyes he offered up a short prayer to Tiamet, not knowing whether his god could hear it or not. His eyes were still closed when he flung himself backwards off the cliff.

Something snagged his robe and, looking up, Chel could see the lizardman, one hand clutching his robes, the other with claws digging into the flesh of his face. His right eye wasn't working and pain was spreading up his cheek. As the reptile pulled the elf up, an easy task for Chel was very light, something flashed in the sunlight.

The lizardman tried to dodge but the elf was too close. Chel's unbroken hand drove the dagger up through his jaw, into the soft flesh of his brain.

A gurgle escaped the warrior's throat and he staggered backward, knees buckling. With a final rattling breath the lizardman died.

* * *

Chel had walked from the drop and then had followed the course of a stream until the sun began to set and his feet had long since gone numb from cold. Shivering he made his way onto the bank. 

He turned and looked at himself in the stream.

The right side of his face was completely unrecognisable. The eye was just an empty socket and most of the silver flesh had been torn away.

Chel turned away. For many, many years people had loved him for his pretty face, turning away when they found the shattered mind that lay beneath it. For about the same length of time he had suspected that he was only good for acting as a living ornament, something to be put on display and fawned over... Now he was not even that.

"So what are you good for now?" he whispered to himself.

Set a little away from the bank was a shallow cave. Chel went inside, collasping into the darkest corner, and curled up, as though trying to hide the poor ruin of his face and body.


	8. Chapter VIII

**Jessi: **Just one exam left on Friday and then it'll all be over... I'm so happy I could cry. Anyway I used this chapter to put some detail on the paladins' characters. For paladins they haven't come across as very religious :P

* * *

"We should stop for the night Vale," Keroigar turned to the elf. Every time he and his brother looked at the young cleric they were filled with an unnatural feeling of dread. There was something deeply unsettling about the dull, lustreless orbs that looked out from the shadow of her hood. The paladin swallowed deeply.

"It matters not," the elf tugged on the reins to make her horse stop, her voice emotionless. She remained absolutely still, head hanging down onto her chest.

_It's nothing,_ the paladin thought to himself, _she misses Chel... that's all..._

Still he kept one eye on her as the three dismounted. Their chosen campsite was a stretch of grass that lead to a gently-sloping bank and a narrow stream. A cave was set a little way away.

Samera nodded to the dark entrance and drew his sword. Keroigar followed his twin up towards the cave.

"You think there may be monsters here?" Keroigar tucked a golden bang behind his ear- his hair was really due for a trim.

"Can't hurt to check," the other paladin touched his holy symbol and spoke a single word. Instantly a bright light shone forth, each of the nine stars in Mystra's holy symbol shedding their own radiance. The spell illuminated the entire chamber.

The search for monsters was forgotten by the sight of the creature that lay at the back of the cave. It wore a filthy, blood-stained robe and was curled up on its side, facing away from the paladins. It also had thick white hair, grown extremely long.

"I can't be..." Keroigar pushed past his brother and gently sat the slender figure up. The face had been torn away on one side but there was no mistaking the pale elf. It was Chel.

"Mother Mystra!" Samera leant closer to see the damage inflicted, whilst Keroigar summoned Mystra's power to use his healing ability.

The elf moaned in pain, the healing magic glowing brighter for a brief moment before vanishing without a trace.

"It didn't work?" Samera frowned, even on someone with this many wounds there should have been at least some improvement. He stretched out a hand to try with his own healing magic.

Chel's single remaining eye opened abruptly,

"No..." his chest heaved with pain and another cry escaped him.

"You have so many wounds," Keroigar gently lowered the wingless elf down, cushioning his head on the paladin's folded cloak, "We must use our healing magic."

"The collar!" Chel raised his unbroken hand, his urgent movements causing more and more agony to course through his body, "You must remove it!"

"The collar?" one paladin touched it, feeling immediately the wave of evil magic that emitted from the device. In one smooth movement he brought his sword down onto it.

The screech of metal on metal was the only result. Not even a scratch flawed the collar's surface. It would require more powerful methods to break it.

* * *

Keroigar carried the injured elf out of the cave and into the circle of nine candles. The image of Mystra's holy symbol was completed with curved lines flowing out from the centre made in the earth by the swords of both paladins and dusted with red powder.

The pale elf's eyes were closed tightly and his teeth were clenched as he suppressed his cries of pain. A short gasp managed to escape as he was set down in the centre of Mystra's holy symbol.

The paladins took up their positions facing each other on opposite sides. Vale hugged the shadows, hunched over in her cloak. She seemed a little distant considering who it was that was writhing in agony on the ground.

Both twins were now deep in meditation , swords laid out in front of them. The candlelight set the blades gleaming brightly in the night. Abruptly they began to speak in perfect synchronicity, their identical voices making it seem much more eerie.

"Mystra, Mother of the Weave, hear us," began the twins, "we, your humble mortal servants, have need of your mighty powers. Our minds are bared to you, no thought is secret, nothing is hidden from your sight. Mother Mystra, we beg you to take that which your power created. In your great wisdom we ask that you take back that which has been used for evil in your name.

"Mother Mystra, hear us. Mother Mystra, hear us. Mother Mystra, HEAR US," their voice rose into a sudden roar, repeating the same phrase over and over again.

The candle flames flared up suddenly, creating a circle of fire. A sound, not unlike a wet finger running along the rim of a wineglass, filled the air. Blue-and-silver radiance filled the air, flickering about the collar.

Deep within her shadows the young female watched, her eyes appearing a vivid green in the light. A strange expression crossed her face, almost as if in jealousy and her hands clenched into fists beneath the thick fabric of her cloak.

The ringing noise rose in volume, changing in a female voice singing to some strange and haunting tune. Lines of white fire rose from each of the candles, streaming down into the collar. Every rune, every twisted carving on the metal surface was brightly illuminated, growing brighter and brighter still.

Finally with a screech of tortured metal sounded the collar shattered.

The pale elf flung back his head and screamed, his back arching and his hair writhing about his head like a halo.

Then there was silence.

* * *

Both exhausted paladins staggered to Chel's side.

Ghostly silver radiance clung to him, outlining the almond shape of his closed eyes, his angular jaw and the torn Cupid's bow lips. The collar lay in pieces about him, scattered on the ground and amongst the long strands of his hair.

"It's done then," Keroigar looked across at his brother, then at the approaching elf, "Vale, we still might not be able to save him, his wounds are many and we've used up all of Mystra's favour today."

The elf put her head to one side as though she was considering something.

* * *

Deep within her prison Vale twisted in pain as her memories were rummaged through. The presence mercifully withdrew swiftly with an answer.

* * *

"His regeneration ability will save him," the toneless voice droned from underneath the hood, "He merely needs time to heal."

Samera nodded,

"We need time to rest Vale," he tossed her a thick roll of bandages, "cover his wounds and keep watch."

As the paladins stumbled off the body of Vale knelt and began to cut the robe away from Chel's slender frame.

* * *

The morning light shone onto the pale elf's face, waking him from his deep and dreamless sleep. He sat up, wincing at the pain from his sides.

As always his regeneration had been at work in his sleep, aiming for the simpler wounds first. The many deep gouges had gone, save for a few on his ribs and hips. His hair had grown back and his lips were whole.

More complex wounds and the regeneration of complete limbs took time and he left the bandages on his hand, face and back.

His bag of holding was nearby and Chel dressed. It was his usual attire, black robes that covered him from ankles to his neck, tightly belted about his waist. He kept his face in a blank mask even as the belt pressed down on his wounds. He threw on his cloak to cover the vacant slits in the back where his wings would have stuck through and drew the hood up to conceal his bandaged face.

None of his flesh was exposed. Everything that could be hurt was hidden and drawn in.

Limping he headed into the camp.

* * *

Chel raised his head at the paladin's greeting and lifted his hand in acknowledgement. A soft noise from the horses made him glance quickly in that direction. Having found no threat he turned back and...

He twisted around, his eyes wide and his hands going to his mouth. A familiar little figure had reached the camp, a narrow face looking out from beneath the hood framed with blond hair.

"Vale?" his voice was quiet, disbelieving, but at the same time, desperately wishing for it to be true. In his mind's eye he could see her bleeding and dying on a forest floor.

The head lifted.

"Vale!" he ran to her, flinging his arms about her. She was back, the little elf that he depended on so much. Everything was going to be alright, she was here, she was here, and it was all going to be fine.

Her slap came as a complete surprise to him and the push caught him off guard. Chel tumbled onto the ground and looked up at her, hurt in his eyes and her handprint a darker patch of silver on his pale cheek.

* * *

**Jessi:** Wow... this is a long chapter. The break must have been good for me. 


	9. Chapter IX

**Jessi:** I love the new free hit counter. Fifty-seven hits on this story! Stuff like that makes me smile :) Thank you to all those who have read this and thanks Sharkbite for the congrats.

* * *

From his position on the floor Chel looked up at the female. His mouth hung open and he was rendered speechless with shock. When he did manage to finally stammer out her name, Vale had already swept by. Both paladins exchanged glances and Samera walked up to the young cleric as she mounted her horse,

"Vale?"

He got no response, the elf more concerned with the reins of her horse. Carefully, the aasimar touched her arm. His fingertips had merely brushed her flesh before Vale 's head snapped round, her eyes narrowed. Samera flinched under the intensity of her gaze,

"...Vale, where are you going?"

"We are going to Mount Waterdeep," her lips were tinged slightly blue. The paladin tried to remember if they had always been like that,

"But, don't you remember? We were going there to find your... to find Chel," he gestured towards the pale elf, "He's here now, so why-" he trailed off under another intense stare from the elf.

"We are going to Mount Waterdeep," each syllable fell into place with an utter finality. Her head rolled forward loosely and, ignoring everyone else, she kicked her horse into a walk.

Still on the floor, Chel watched her go, his eyes filled with an all-too-familiar sorrow.

* * *

The injured elf rode pillion with Keroigar, the horse not even noticing the extra weight. Naturally friendly, the aasimar had tried to strike up a conversation with Chel but was met with silence or half-hearted, monosyllabic answers. They now rode in complete silence which was fine with the wingless elf. His mind reeled with questions.

The mark of Vale's hand had long since vanished but had been replaced with a deeper mental anguish.

His young ward had no reason to hit him, at least not one he could think of. He'd never hurt her, both physically or mentally.

Chel had tried to ask her through telepathy but her mind was completely closed off. Her mental defences were impenetrable, not a single flaw or crack was there for him to pass through.

Forced to figure out the answer for himself the injured elf retreated further into his brooding silence.

Was it his looks? He touched his bandaged face lightly. But then he immediately disregarded it. He knew Vale better than anyone on Aber-Troil and something so trivial would not bother her. Besides his face would regenerate by the end of the day.

The next reason that came to him was that she had sickened of his depression, his dark moods and - he glanced at his arms - his practise of self-harm. But that too made no sense. Before he's been captured she had offered to help him and that offer had been genuine.

He sighed- what was the reason? Nothing the pale elf had done seemed wrong- he had never and would never betray her.

Abruptly he gasped. Hearing this Keroigar turned his head,

"Chel?"

He ignored the paladin as memories began to run through his head. Memories of a black-masked female and her cruel illusions. Feelings of paranoia melting into sheer ecstasy before the dark abyss of despair yawned open in front of him as he realised exactly what he had done.

Vale must have looked into his mind while he was knocked out, curiosity overriding her respect for his privacy. That's why she hit him, that's why she refused to talk to him. Chel hung his head.

Sex had always been a sensitive issue between them. It was not due to their faith - the Lord of Wyrms never demanded chastity from his faithful - but to things they had tried to leave behind at home.

A long time ago, before Chel came to be the head of the church in Vale's home forest he had decided he had enough. After years of a succession of fawning wenches besotted with his face and cold, calculating women who lusted after his power instead of his body, he had sworn an oath of chastity before the altar of Tiamet.

It had been no hardship, he found it difficult to become close to people anyway. But Vale... she had slipped completely under his guard.

Even before they fell in love she been there, ever since she could walk, a grin on her tiny face, even soothing a little of his dark sorrow with her light.

She was still a way off being considered an adult, despite her maturity. Still only fifty years old the male had not rushed her into anything but...

He sighed again. He would have ended his oath for her. Only for her.

With these sad thoughts he continued his journey.


	10. Chapter X

**Jessi:** I seem to be on a roll with this story lately. The next few chapters have been planned out in my head for some time now, but I was stuck on some difficult bits in the middle. Hence there shall be faster updates!

* * *

A tiny flicker of light shone through the trees. Vale had set up her own camp away from the paladins. Chel sat and watched the distant flames, his knees drawn up against his chest and his head resting in his hands. 

His mouth twitched as another brief stab of pain flared into existence. Beneath his bandages his face was rebuilding itself and the pale elf welcomed the pain as a distraction from his thoughts. Inevitably, however, his mind returned to his ward.

His face felt as though it was aflame.

Sighing, Chel got to his feet and wandered into the forest.

* * *

Blood-stained bandages fell from his fingers. His other hand gently explored the new flesh. His eye gazed at his reflection in a small shard of mirror from his bag of holding. 

The regenerated skin was already gaining a silver tint to match the rest. Soon it would look as though nothing had ever marred it... almost. His right eye was still an empty socket, a dark hole that balefully stared out at him.

Controlled by magic, a length of cloth began to wrap itself around his head, covering the offending blemish. Chel watched it, his mouth unsmiling.

Almost automatically he drew the small knife from the belt, sending the mirror shard floating off while the other hand shook the voluminous sleeve from his arm. He sank to the ground, his robe spread out like an inky pool against the grass.

The knife edge settled against his silver flesh, but the hand that held it was shaking.

Abruptly he shrieked and flung the knife away into the darkness. The wingless elf wrapped his arms around his chest, his entire body shivering.

* * *

When the male elf returned to the paladin's camp the twins were dividing up the meat of two rabbits that they had caught. Chel noticed that there were three dishes. 

Keroigar picked up one and walked over to him,

"Chel, could you take this to Vale? Maybe she'll eat something if you give it to her."

"... She has not been eating?" Chel's flawless brow creased slightly.

"No," the blond aasimar bit his lip, "I haven't seen her eat _anything_ since... Well, since the night you were gone..." he lowered his gaze from the pale elf, "I don't think she's been sleeping either..."

With this grim news running through his head, Chel took the bowl and headed for Vale's camp.

* * *

The young cleric was hunched over in the folds of her cloak. The firelight highlighted her mouth and throat, but left her eyes in shadow. She listlessly moved her head as the black-clad elf moved into her camp. 

"Vale... I brought you some food," he set the bowl down then knelt opposite her, "Keroigar said you haven't been eating... you must be hungry."

There was no response from Vale, no movement, no speech.

"I... I did some thinking while we were travelling today... I know why you are so angry with me and I know that I deserved that slap..." he paused, taking deep breathes, "Vale, down there... in that cavern... and after I saw you get injured like that...when she used that illusion on me...

"I know that it doesn't excuse my actions but... I wanted you to be alive so badly... so badly that I truly believed that she was you..." he bit his lip and raised his gaze to meet Vale's.

There was no response.

"Vale... Talk to me, please," Chel's voice was soft and pleading, "Shout at me. Hit me. Anything!" he leant forward, to see under her hood, to look into her eyes-

He shrieked and was up in an instant, his claws and fangs out and his hair writhing in the air,

"You are not-!"

He got no further. The female elf shot forward, much faster than any mortal should be able to move, and her hand covered his face. There was a silent green flash and Chel fell backwards, his eye closed and his body limp.

Vale stood above him, eyes glowing in the darkness.

* * *

"What happened to him?" Keroigar looked up at the magic user. 

"He is unconscious so that he can regenerate his wings. It is nothing to be concerned about," she turned and mounted her horse. Inside her prison Vale screamed.


	11. Chapter XI

**Jessi:** Now it shall get interesting and that's all I'll say ;)

* * *

The docks of Waterdeep were never quiet, even this late at night. Vast trade ships from all corners of Troil were drawn up close to land, people swarming over them like ants. The air buzzed with noise and lanterns made the area as bright as noon. 

A sailor, staggering drunkenly down the pier, looked upwards at Selune and the tears that followed it across the night time sky. Completely entranced by the moon he did not even see his killer.

Grinning wickedly the lizardman pulled the body into the shadows, out of no regard for stealth, but rather to conceal its meal from the other of its kin. Although, it grinned as it heard the screams cutting through the night, there would be more than enough meat to go around.

* * *

From atop of the walls of Waterdeep the Dark Lady watched her army spread out through the alleyways and streets. She knew that eventually her minions would be slaughtered-the city boasted mighty magics. 

She did not know of such figures as Khelben Blackstaff or of the Lords of Waterdeep, she only sensed the play of magic above the buildings. She had not even known of the city itself. The mountain, however, remained and, she grinned wickedly, the true goal of all her schemes.

A bright burst of fire signalled the arrival of her mages, followed by the sharp crack of a lightning bolt.

Confident that her army would serve its purpose, she turned, and began her journey to the summit.

* * *

The horses were exhausted. Vale's in particular was drenched in sweat and foam frothed in its mouth. Yet the elf, in an uncharacteristic attitude, although these days the paladins were not so sure, kept up the brutal pace. 

It had worked though. The trio of horses, Chel slumped in Keroigar's arms, still unconscious, drew closer to Waterdeep.

The paladins saw the smoke and heard the screams of slaughter. If Vale heard them she gave no outward sign of caring. Her eyes remained fixed on Mount Waterdeep's summit.

"Vale!" Samera drew his horse closer to the young cleric, "We must get into Waterdeep. The people... Our friends need our help." The pain in his voice was clear. Both the twins had been born and bred in the City of Splendours.

"Sam..." Keroigar's voice made Samera turn in his saddle. His brother was staring with horror at the mountain and when the paladin saw it himself an identical expression made its way onto his face.

Above the summit was a rolling mass of colour. Shapes briefly burst into existence, demon faces and dragon's wings.

The female elf dismounted and stood stock-still, her unflinching gaze directed onto this strange thing,

"I must go. I must go to Mount Waterdeep."

"Vale, what if they need you in the city?" the magic user ignored Samera and started to walk onwards, "Are you just going to abandon them is that it?" the paladin angrily stomped forward and grabbed Vale's shoulder.

The burst of magic flung him off his feet and he crashed into a tree, his plate mail making a hollow sound.

"Sam!" in an instant Keroigar was kneeling beside his fallen twin, Chel lying like a discarded doll on the roadside. His golden eyes took a fearful glance at Vale.

Her hair writhed in the air like a nest of serpents. Sparks of magic danced across his skin and amongst her tresses. More magic fell from her mouth and her eyes... The eyes that glowed green.

She spread her arms, her palms out, magic weeping from them like stigmata. Her feet left the ground, her body becoming weightless. Her levitation spell in place Vale headed for the summit of Mount Waterdeep.


	12. Chapter XII

**Jessi:** I'm very excited about these next few chapters. My work of five years (yes, this story is really that old) is almost complete. :)

* * *

The magic was stronger up on the peak. The elf's eyes were wide as she stared upwards at the riot of colour above her head. Streams of raw magic flowed past the sheltering boulder that she had landed behind. 

The other's presence was close. It pulsed like a dark cancer amid the magic, drawing it in and devouring the raw power.

Vale's body walked towards the magic and knelt a little way from it. Her hands extended, the slender fingers disappearing into the whirling mass.

Magic tore up her arms and into her body. The flesh of her hands began to blister and burn, the pale, once-golden flesh turning black. Blood oozed from numerous wounds.

Still she worked at her task, working the raw magic into a new shape. A shuddering scream escaped her mouth as something flowed down into her creation.

Everything went black.

* * *

On the roadside leading into Waterdeep, Chel awoke. He sat up, his senses screaming at him that something was wrong. He blinked. 

When he took in the sight above Mount Waterdeep, his eyes widened in horror,

"Vale? Where are you?"

"She..." Keroigar knelt by his brother's side, his hands directing healing magic into him, "She flew to it... to the summit."

The elf stood, glad to feel his wings again. The white feathers were newly regenerated and amongst them were thin threads of blood. But he could fly again.

He lunged into the air, flying with all the speed he could muster towards what he knew would be a battle.

* * *

Just a few metres away from Vale's slumped body the creation born of the raw magic taken into the little elven body opened his eyes. He almost laughed at the feeling of relief of being in this body that he had so despaired of being trapped in. 

Tiamet Pendragon stood, the long, delicate fingers of his new elven body brushing away the dirt from the dark robes he had clothed it in. His green eyes, the beautiful pale green he had preferred for his many forms, took in the sight of the corpse of his cleric lying in the dirt.

Slowly he made a gesture in the air and almost cried out with joy when the magic lifted Vale's body into the air and brought it to his feet. His magic... his spells were back, a deadly arsenal at his fingertips.

He knelt by the elf, sadly taking in her blue-tinged lips and the reopened wound in her stomach, the hasty repairs, done with her own sorceress' magic, gone.

"I am sorry, my cleric, to use your corpse in this manner," he softly whispered into the deaf ears. The bastardised mix of Elven and Draconic that her people spoke and prayed in flowed from the pale coral lips, "But... she will pay for this, for your death," he stood, glancing off towards his enemy's presence, "I will see your soul in Mercuria."

With this Tiamet strode off, the magic changing course to return to the body from where it had been stolen.

* * *

A moment after the deity had vanished from sight, the winged elf arrived on the scene. His eyes took in the slumped form of Vale and instantly he was at her side. 

Easily he lifted her, cradling her against his chest, rocking the young elf as he'd done so many times in her too-short life. But she would not respond now with similes or kisses, she never would. A moan of pain escaped him and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, falling to his knees, hunched over her body.

Abruptly the pale elf felt something. Quickly, he laid his sensative elven fingers on the same spot he'd just placed his head.

A pulse! Slow and faint but it was there!

"You are alive!" he berated himself as the words had escaped his mouth. This was no time to be stating the obvious. Quickly he began healing her.

The platinum light flowed down into her body, from his lips, from his hands, even illuminating his white tresses in a ghostly light. It took all his will to stop himself from pouring all of his healing magic into her, which would have killed her.

Chel saw the terrible damage that had been inflicted on her delicate hands and raised them to his lips, planting healing kisses on the blackened flesh. When the silken flesh of his mouth brushed her palm, a very sensative area of an elf's body, she involuntaryily shivered.

Work done, Chel placed her on the ground, in the shelter of the boulder. The winged elf leapt over the rock, hoping he would be able return to Vale after the approaching battle.


	13. Chapter XIII

Buildings had once stood here, housing the griffon-mounted soldiers of Waterdeep. They were mostly rubble now and those still standing had random holes blasted into their walls. Corpses of a few straggling militia and their mounts lay partly buried beneath the debris. Others had been reduced to small piles of ash.

In the centre of all this sat the Dark Lady, her robes fluttering in the streams of raw magic. To most people it would have seemed that she sat in empty space. A few, more powerful, beings would have seen that she sat on the bottom step of an ever-changing stairway, a Celestial Stairway in the Planes, her legs dangling in the air.

The magic ran into her body, but unlike Vale's hands, her flesh did not blister or burn. Instead her body was surrounded by an expanding halo of darkness. Tiny red lightning bolts forked across it.

Her eyes opened wide when Tiamet entered the newly cleared summit. Magic clung to him in a shifting cloak of radiance.

"Why won't you just _die_?" her voice rose in a howling shriek, a bony finger pointed out at him.

"The same can be said of you," the deity came to a halt, "I believed you to be destroyed many years ago."

"But I survived… Survived the full extent of you wrath," she spread out her arms, her hands splayed, her head lolling loosely on her neck, "I am truly invincible, truly immortal."

"You're deranged!" snapped the dragon god, his hands clenching beneath his sleeves.

"I see clearer than you," the Dark Lady rocked back and forth on her heels, snatches of words in a multitude of languages escaping her mouth before dissolving into a mad giggle. Behind her mask her mouth formed into a crooked grin.

From the top of a still standing eyrie Chel sat, eyes narrowed, ears twitching and swivelling to best catch the conversation.

"I assume its time to resume our age old battle. To fight, fight, _fight_ to the end," the robed female jumped down from the Celestial Stairway.

"Are you too cowardly to face me without your mask?"

The masked female swayed,

"Without the mask? Is that your final wish? To see what _you _created?" her hands went to the clasps of her mask, long fingernails tearing away the leather straps even as she undid the buckles. She lowered the mask down, tossing it to one side where it lay with its demonic grin in the dust.

She would have been beautiful and had been, at some point, gifted with cold and savage exquisiteness. But now her flesh was covered in old burns, at some places the flesh had been burnt away completely to revel bone. Her lips were gone and in their place was a frozen grin, teeth long and pointed like an animal's maw. Drool ran from her mouth and a thin stream of the stuff dripped from her chin.

One of her eyes was partly closed, the eyelids sealed shut at the corners. The other was bright green and danced crazily in its socket, ceaselessly rolling around. It focused briefly on the dragon lord, remaining still enough for its slit pupil to become visible, before rolling completely backwards into her skull.

"Did mortality make you mad? Or were you insane before?"

"Brilliance is always mistaken for madness," a pink tongue emerged from her mouth to lap at the saliva on her face.

"_Brilliance_? You plunged the Planes into chaos! You caused damage that took eons to heal!"

"You cannot understand, but then again that's what it's always been like. Haven't we always been complete opposites? Two halves of a whole. The Light and the Dark. The Brother and Sister Deities. Tiamet," she placed a hand on her chest, "and Tiamat."

On his perch Chel's heart stopped, his hands flying to his mouth. The conversation continued on the ground.

"You can never understand my goals, my plans for our race, brother. I am the smarter one," her eyes narrowed, "How many other deities can strip another of immortality whilst trapped in a mortal frame?"

"_You did this!_" Tiamet roared.

"I hope you appreciate the irony of being trapped in the form I've spent so long in."

"Sister, I will destroy you for what you've done!" magic crackled around the male deity in a halo of lightning.

"What for this time?" said Tiamat, sounding bored. She waved a hand in the air, "Is it for your flock? Your precious Aber-Troil?" she grinned wickedly, "Or is it for the high priest who broke his oath with me? The cleric I killed? Could it be that maybe you still fight for her? Yes, your beloved Kereska. I still think of her death, you know, and the way she pleaded at the end-" the female deity was cut off by an abrupt blast of magic cast by her enraged brother.

She lunged out of the way, hands forming arcane gestures. A wave of fire shot towards her opponent. The true battle began as the distraction raged on in the city.

* * *

**Jessi:** And now you see why being flamed about Tiamat was so irritating! 


	14. Chapter XIV

**Jessi:** Mwhahaha, my cunning twist has made me seem much more intelligent. I can only hope that I do not screw up that image :)

* * *

A golden globe of magic exploded, demolishing another eyrie. Chel took off from the falling roof and soared onto another perch, not paying much attention to his surroundings. This new revelation had shaken him to his core. All of his clever tactics and battle plans had deserted him. All he could do now was to sit and watch.

* * *

Tiamet snarled as he saw his attack miss his sister and hit a building instead. She moved backwards, her feet floating above the ground, into the dust clouds that rose up.

The male deity began moving, his elven eyes scanning the surroundings for his opponent. There was no time to lament the loss of his wondrous draconic vision however.

The ground heaved beneath his feet. Already unsteady on two legs, the dragon lord fell onto his knees, immediately scrambling backwards as cracks opened up in the soil. The dark rifts were suddenly alive with vermin.

Despite himself, Tiamet shrieked as clouds of insects covered his flesh. Flies crawled across his face, his eyes and his lips, biting and stinging. Cockroaches and beetles made his skin crawl with every step of their many legs. His hands raked at his face, clearing his vision just long enough for him to see the banded snakes slither towards him, fangs all-too visible.

_Fool. You are panicking over a simple sensation!_ the deity, still engaged in an undignified backwards crawl, felt his heart beat all the faster at the unfamiliar voice in his head.

As suddenly as they had come the insects and serpents vanished,

_Come to your senses and _fight _her!_ _Now _move!

Having spent countless decades giving orders Tiamet was impressed by the speed at which his body obeyed the voice. A spear of ice embedded itself in the exact spot that he'd been sitting in, impacting hard enough to crack solid rock.

A scream of rage echoed across the summit and Tiamat briefly appeared in the sky above, held aloft by her magic. Her arms made a wide sweeping gesture and her next attack began.

Hundreds of sliver darts arced outwards from her body, instantly changing direction to head towards the male deity. He thrust out his arms, palms outwards, shielding himself in a transparent blue sphere.

The impact of the darts on his shield shuddered along his arms, shaking his fragile elven body. Tiamet fought to hold his concentration, to focus on keeping the shield up. At last the barrage stopped and he let down the shield...

A wave of force magic swept him off his feet and he was thrown through a wooden wall into a half-demolished building.

Tiamat landed and began stalking towards her prey, her body swaying erratically with each and every step. Abruptly her attention was captured by a new and softer target.

* * *

Vale staggered into the clearing. She could barely keep herself on her feet and sweat ran down her pale flesh. Her hands grabbed at a nearby wall as her vision and stomach lurched. The scene before her was grey and wavered back and forth between blurry and her normal sharp, elven sight.

The young cleric was abruptly shoved backwards, a heavy weight upon her chest. She looked up into a face so horribly disfigured that it could have been a mask. Saliva ran from its mouth and onto the elf's cheek.

"Hello, pretty one," the voice was horribly mangled and Vale realized with growing fear and nausea that the apparition had no lips. She shrieked.

* * *

Chel arrowed into the Dark Lady's body, his claws driving themselves into her flesh. The former deity and winged elf rolled across the ground each trying to bite or slash at the other. The pale elf closed a hand about her throat, squeezing with all his magical strength, trying to snap her neck.

A gesture caused lightning to surge from Tiamat's flesh and into Chel. He let go, the stink of burnt flesh rising from his arm. He also had a spell though.

Magic slammed into his opponent's body, flinging her away in the opposite direction to Tiamet.

The male elf flipped onto his hands and knees, quickly getting to his feet. He ran to the prone Vale, helping her stand,

"Vale? Vale-uke?"the affection pet name flowed from his lips naturally, even at this serious moment. He switch to telepathy, _Vale, you have to go. It's much too dangerous,_ as he spoke, healing magic once more flowed into her body from his own, _Please go. They are too powerful for you._

_C-Chel-seme?_ a tiny cry escaped her, though whether from happiness or fear Chel did not know.

He bit his lip as he pushed Vale away from him, towards safety,

"Vale, if you truly love me then you'll run."

Chel turned away and flew towards the makeshift arena, where the two combatants were emerging.

* * *

Tiamet's arm was filled with fiery pain. The bone was visible, having torn through the soft, mammal skin with its broken edge. The limb dangled uselessly by his side.

His sister had a broken neck. Her head was kept upright only by one of her hands, tangled in her black hair.

"Looks like we can't die by each other's hands, my brother. Maybe we'll just keep fighting until Dendar swallows the sun," the bones in her neck fused with a crack. Tiamet's arm made a similar noise as it healed.

Chel landed elegantly, his fangs and claws gone. His long tresses and his large eyes made him seem like a lost, innocent angel on a battlefield. However, his expression was carved from stone.

Tiamat clapped her hands,

"I had _so_ wondered where you got to. There will be no offers this time," she put her head on one side and in the same sweet voice continued, "You'll die like everyone else, no matter how pretty you are."

"I did not come to be your whore."

"Then why are you here?" she pointed at her brother, the fight forgotten for now, "Are you one of his?"

"I am. But that is not why I came," he looked at her, eyes full of fire, "I came for _vengeance_!"

Giggling, Tiamat put her hands to her ugly, bestial mouth,

"The little slut wants revenge. Did I take more than your pride, perhaps?" she made a crude gesture, "I wouldn't have taken _you _to be a temple virgin."

"Rape and abuse I have suffered before. I do not want revenge for that."

"Then what? I can't recall anything else," Tiamat looked genuinely puzzled.

"_You can't recall?_" Chel snarled, his hair suddenly writhing in the air and magic crackling along his body. Boulders cracked and rocks lifted into the air, "You _bitch_!"

He was screaming in rage now, his hands were clenched into tight fists,

"You took my family! You took my sanity, my _life_!" he raised his arms and briefly the marks of centuries of self-harm were visible, "_You did this to me!_"

He stepped forward,

"I want revenge for the centuries, the millennia of my life that you ruined! I _will _destroy you for it!"

For the first time in eons a cold stab of fear entered Tiamat's mind,

"I am a deity! The true Deity of Dragons! You're just a mammal! A pathetic mammal!"

Chel merely smiled, a truly terrible grin. He was still smiling when he felt the pain flare into being within him.

* * *

**Jessi:** Just another quick note. _Uke _and _seme _are Japanese (I'm not sure what they mean) but here I use them as terms of endearment. 


	15. Chapter XV

**Jessi:** I am very pleased with the way the last two chapters have turned out. When I read the first chapters of the Chronicles or some of the original work from five years ago I can't believe how much my writing has improved!

* * *

Chel fell to his knees, swallowing his cries of pain. His claws appeared and disappeared at random, digging deep gouges into the earth. His fangs were trying to grow but were being stopped by his clenched jaw. 

Oh gods, it had been so long! So long that it _hurt_!

He hunched over as his ribs seemingly constricted tightly around his lungs. His breathes came in rapid, panicky gasps.

Slowly he forced himself to calm down, to breath normally, to let go of the pain. His eyes closed as he concentrated to the magic.

"Is this meant to impress me?" Tiamat stood with hands on her hips, her eyes never leaving Chel. Her entire stance was weary. Tiamet also looked uncertain, his hands clenching and unclenching, his head tilted to one side. The brilliant green orbs never left the hunched figure either.

Had Chel noticed he would have laughed. But he was not paying attention, completely lost in the sheer sensation of the change.

His rib cage abruptly expanded, air filling his lungs. New, stronger muscles built up on his chest, his back - everything becoming so much stronger. The bulk looked freakishly grotesque on his slight elven body. More pain flared along his back. His spine creaked and snapped as it lengthened, straining upwards against his pale skin. The leather belt around Chel's waist snapped, falling to the ground.

His face and jaw bulged outwards, the misshapen features shifting. The curtain of hair that hid it just fell from his scalp.

"What is going on here?" a slight quaver entered the voice of the Dark Lady.

The sound of tearing material filled the air, strips of the stuff clinging to the jagged crest that stood out of Chel's back. Horns burst out of his skull which bore a visage more suited to a demon instead of a beautiful angel.

* * *

Unnoticed in the shadows of an eyrie Vale turned away, tears filling her eyes. The young cleric slumped to the ground, sobbing into her hands. Almost mockingly Chel's face appeared in her mind, his expression deeply concerned, telling her to run... To run if she loved him. 

"You didn't love me enough to tell me what you truly were? Oh, Chel..."

Praying that her magic still worked she whispered the words to a flight spell and began to make her way down the mountain.

* * *

The rest of Chel's transformation continued unabated. White feathers littered the ground amongst the long strands of hair. Instead of seraphic pinions he had huge bat-like wings, sharp claws decorating the joint. The pupils of his eyes faded out, the whole orbs becoming the blue-green colour of his iris. 

Now he did scream. Each bone of his body simultaneously grew, increasing drastically in size. Even the fangs in his open mouth became longer and sharper. Light engulfed his body, forcing both deities to look away, shielding their eyes from the blinding radiance.

They did not see the last stages of Chel's transformation, but they did see the result.

* * *

Chel opened his eyes, just stopping himself from gasping. The wondrous vision that he'd tried to recreate in an elven form was back in full, seemingly every detail clamouring for his attention. He marvelled at the feeling of having four feet on the floor instead of tottering about on a mere two legs. 

The list could go on forever... The sensation of having a tail again... His own proper wings... Even tasting the air with his tongue which he did several times as though he missed it.

And he had missed this... his own form... his own true form.

He stood more than twice as tall as the surrounding buildings and towers. Had he spread his wings they both would have blocked the sun from the summit. Scales, platinum coloured with a hint of silver, covered his body.

In exultation he threw back his head and the roar of a dragon echoed over Waterdeep.

* * *

**Jessi: **Were you surprised? 


	16. Chapter XVI

**Jessi:** I gathered from the responses that I got that everyone was surprised, yey! Believe me when I say I've been waiting years to reveal that surprise (sad I know, but still very glad to do it). Was slightly confused by Triaxx2's review. I don't like people not finishing their sentences... I always wonder what they were going to say :p

* * *

One clawed foot rose and planted itself in front of the massive dragon. Gracefully, for something of such bulk, Chel stepped forward, muscles moving silky beneath a thick layer of armour. A long, pointed tongue brushed past scimitar-like fangs to taste the air.

His head on its long neck swung to look at Tiamat, the pupil-less eyes filled with rage,

"Do you recognize me now?" he did not speak Common anymore, instead an long-dead tongue, older than the language of today's dragons. This language was Ancient Draconic and the three living beings that still spoke it were all present on the summit.

"Its... not possible..." the Dark Lady only managed a feeble stammer. The platinum dragon grinned,

"So you do recognise me."

"No! I _destroyed _you! I killed you and all of your kind!"

A growl escaped from between Chel's fangs,

"I didn't die that day. _You left me for dead_!" the dragon lunged towards her, mouth wide.

Tiamat rapidly spoke an incantation and the dragon's wide maw closed only on thin air. The Dark Lady, reappearing on the other side of the summit, spoke another spell, one known only to the most powerful of mages.

A massive rent appeared in the ground, a malevolent slit of red glowing with an unearthly light. Two clawed hands gripped the sides and the horned head of a balor emerged from the rift.

A dark cloud of demons suddenly burst from the portal, fluttering on their misshapen wings. At the Dark Lady's command they rushed at the dragon.

Immediately they went for the eyes, the tiny quasits unable to pierce the thick scaly armour of the dragon. Chel closed his eyes, relying on his other senses as he crushed a hezrou beneath his clawed foot. A fiery whip lashed against his scales, the weapon strong enough to crack the armour. Sensing an advantage the balor who struck the blow repeated the strikes with his sword and whip.

Hissing, Chel aimed as best as he could and breathed. White flames rolled out of his mouth in a wide cone. Quasits turned to ash instantly. The offending balor fell back, batting at the magical fire on its body to no avail. A lot of it scorched the dragon's own flesh and he leapt backwards, wings flaring outwards.

On the ground, Tiamet tore a hole through the misshapen spider form of a bebilith with his magic. Two pieces of white light were slashing through the demons at his back, better than the finest swords or the sharpest claws.

Shards of ice, each the size of a dragon's fangs smashed into Chel's hide, cracking more of the burnt scales.

"This has gone far enough," growled Chel and he spoke a spell of his own. Instantly the rift vanished along with the demonic army.

Behind a protective pile of rubble Tiamet worked to open the rift once again, to bring back her advantage. She giggled as she finished the spell, awaiting more of her demonic soldiers.

Nothing happened.

"It's called _Planer Lock_," the platinum dragon padded closer, "My spell will make sure that no more reinforcements of your can be summoned."

The Dark Lady threw a fireball into his face. It fizzled out before it even touched him. With a single gesture Chel summoned four bright hoops with pinned the former deity to the earth. His mouth opened and he summoned every single ounce of power he had.

Tiamat shrieked, cursed and spat, an unending stream of hatred pouring from her mouth. These cries reached the ears of her brother who stood, eyes on the platinum dragon.

_There will be no coming back for you_, with that Chel let loose his strongest breath weapon, infused with all the power in his body. The blue beam of disintegration drove through the body of the female deity, the very particles of her form torn asunder.

With one last mad scream Tiamat, the Dark Lady of Dragons died.

* * *

Tiamet picked his way through the rubble, skirting the deep hole that Chel's breath weapon had left behind. He saw the form that his worshipper had managed to change into using the last of his strength and carefully lifted the slight body into a sitting position.

Healing magic ran from the deity into Chel's body. The winged elf in Tiamet's arms stirred, automatically trying to pull away.

"I could never understand your reluctance to be healed," the Dragon Lord pulled Chel closer, "And your preference for those regeneration spells of yours."

The large blue-green eyes opened, glowing with magic, slightly fearful.

"She is dead and gone," reassured the deity, "You won, though you still have a job to do."

"What would you have me do?"

"Vale, my cleric, she flew off in distress. I saw her when you were changing forms."

Chel's brow furrowed with worry,

"Where?"

"She used a flight spell and is off the mountain. I want you to find her and bring her back."

Nodding, Chel stood. A wave of a hand clothed his elven form in black robes once again. He was about to take off when the voice of his deity stopped him,

"I did not even know it was you, Chelevva, until you changed forms... You were always a master of polymorph."

"It has been a long time..."

"Enough. Go and find Vale... and Chelevva," the winged elf turned to face Tiamet, "I believe this is yours." In his elven hand Tiamet held the platinum holy symbol the lizardmen had taken from him.

The symbol around his neck once again Chel took off, his form changing once again.


	17. Chapter XVII

**Jessi:** My brother's on a camping trip so I have plenty of peace and quite to write this chapter. Ah, bliss! Anyway I put a little background to Vale in with this chapter so enjoy :)

* * *

Vale hugged her arms to her chest. The year was wearing on, bring the chill with it. Her arms, left bare by her tunic felt the full force of the wind's icy bite. Shivering, she moved into the scant leeway offered by a tree. 

The young female sat on the ground, curling into a ball. Closing her eyes she mentally willed herself to be warm. Thinking about it was all she could do. No cleric spells... no sorceress powers... She bit her lip as she thought that she might as well have no guardian either.

Unbidden an image flashed into her mind of Chel in his... in his _true_ shape. She saw the twisted face and the horns in exquisite detail, as if her very mind was mocking her now.

"Too good to be true..." she spoke softly to herself, the words mutated slightly by her chattering teeth.

She forced herself to think of other things, and wistfully her thoughts turned to her home, where the weather was blissfully warm all year round. Barely a handful of days were cold, when the wind changed direction and brought enough snow down from the mountains to freeze the lakes and send the elves of her forest, usually outdoor people, scurrying for their fireplaces.

Privately she had loved those days, her father free to sit about the fire with her, free from the duty that so often took him from her side. Chel would be there too, though he would just as often go to the Temple to pray and meditate alone, the cold seemingly not affecting him and his steadfast devotions to his deity.

However, by the end of the day he would have returned, sitting close to the fire, eyes closed. When he though no one was looking he would sometimes voice a soft purr, enjoying the sensation of the heat on his flesh.

Her bottom lip trembled,

"I want to go home," an intense feeling of homesickness rising within her chest. She hadn't felt like this since she had first left her home fifteen years ago. A few fat tears seeped out from between her lashes.

"Are you lost my Lady?" a smooth voice came from above her. Vale looked up, hurriedly dashing a hand across her eyes, to see a slim man in a dusty black cloak over a tightly belted greatcoat, "If so we can escort you," he behind him stood five men dressed in filthy clothes in various states of disrepair. Their weapons, however, were in fine condition. Four of the six men carried swords, ranging from a slender rapier to a massive broadsword. The other two carried a pair of heavy maces and a spiked fail.

The slim man smiled sadly,

"But I'm afraid our services are expensive. They will cost you _all_ your valuables, my dear."

"I have nothing of value," that was true. Her bag of holding was with one of the others. She privately hoped it was with the paladins, she did not want to face Chel at this moment.

His eyes took in the long tunic belted over light tan breeches with soft leather boots. All clothes of the highest quality even if they were all filthy. He didn't miss her slender and very pleasing figure or the empty sheaths on her belt.

His hand moved quickly and came away holding Vale's holy symbol on the end of a broken chain.

"This is pure silver," he whistled softly under his breath, after a close examination.

"No! Please give it back!" the cleric lunged for the symbol. One of the bandit's cronies grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back.

The slim leader took Vale's head in his hand,

"Hmm... Very Pretty. Beautiful, even... after a good wash that is." The others laughed.

So numbed was Vale by everything that had happened, the possession, Chel's reappearance and his true form, that she didn't even react as they drew lots to see who would be the first to rape her. The leader won and his men pinned her to the ground as he undid his belt.

Since he was the only one standing it singled him out as a target. A vast muzzle bit down on his body, biting him cleanly in half.

The attacker, an immense dragon with platinum scales tinted with silver, spat the remains out, the two halves thudding against the tree. With equal swiftness the other four were dealt with until only he and Vale remained.

The elf sat up, her eyes wide and staring upwards at this vast apparition. Her arm stretched up to touch the dragon,

"...So... so beautiful..." with those words she fainted.


	18. Chapter XVIII

**Jessi:** I think this is one of the saddest chapters I've written so far. Read on to see.

* * *

Waterdeep was bathed in a golden light as the sun headed for its resting place below the horizon. The sunlight that entered a plain wooden room turned Vale's skin into an imitation of its former colour. The dark lashes were spread across her cheeks as she slept on. A few stray hairs trailed across her face.

The blue eyes opened, immediently closing again in the bright light. She groaned, burying her head beneath the blankets. Pain gnawed inside her skull.

The bed creaked softly as a slight weight settled on it. Through the blanket she felt someone drape an arm around her waist, laying down next to her. The other arm slid underneath her head to act as a pillow.

_Vale-uke... I was afraid for you. You've been asleep for so long._

"Chel?" she wriggled about, trying to turn around, only succeeding in tangling herself in the blankets. Chel sat up and freed her, watching for her reaction.

But she was not looking at him. Instead her gaze was fixed on the figure that was seated in the corner.

He wore a dream-like expression on his elven face. Little flickers of colour would appear randomly around him before being drawn into his body. The green eyes were watching her unblinkingly. The same eyes that looked down at her as he left her body. Tiamet, the being who had possessed her body, pushing it beyond the limits of her endurance.

She screamed.

* * *

Chel took the screaming elf in his arms. Even as he cast a sleep spell on her, his mind put two-and-two together and he sadly laid Vale back down on the bed.

His expression hardened and when he turned his face was contorted with rage. His hair writhed in the air and his claws were fully extended,

"_You did this to her_!" his words, though they were mutated into a viscous snarl, were understood perfectly by the deity. Tiamet stood,

"Chelevva, do not be so quick to anger. You are becoming irrational and-" he was cut off as magic flung his elven body through the wooden wall, leaving behind a gaping hole. The entire house shuddered in the aftermath of Chel's violent outburst.

The Dragon Deity got to his feet again, the fragile mammal bones healing instantly,

"I am a _deity_, Chelevva."

"And you know the power I possess," he stepped through the hole, "It easily matches a deity's strength."

"Even so," Tiamet brushed dust from his clothes and hair, "you would lose in the end."

One of the paladins poked his head into the corridor, took one glance at the angry Chel and wisely retreated. Neither dragon noticed his presence.

"I do not care whether I live or die."

"But _I_ do, Chelevva," he stretched out his arms, trying to draw the other dragon closer.

"_Like hell you do_!" Chel snarled with rage and pushed away the deity by sheer rage alone, "You didn't care enough to even look for me when I was gone! Not _once_!"

"_You_ left!" Tiamet's eyes narrowed dangerously, "By my own bloody blessed eyes, Chelevva, you've been gone for _four thousand years_! It's no way for a prince of dragons to act! It is no way for my son to act!"

"You didn't act like much of a father. What kind of-"

The deity moved faster than mortal eyes could have followed. In an instant Chel was on the floor, a handprint in darker silver forming on his cheek.

"I have given you everything Chelevva and you're repaying me by behaving like a spoiled child! By all rights I should... I should..."

"Destroy me? Do it then!" the dragon tore open his robe, exposing the vulnerable throat, "You know that I want you to! Finish _her_ job!"

Time froze in the corridor, neither dragon broke eye contact or blinked. Slowly an expression of shock made its way onto the Lord of Dragon's face,

"You... you would have me destroy you? My only child?"

"If it was within my power I would do it myself."

There was another dreadful pause.

Tiamet knelt beside his son,

"Chelevva... I would never..."

"So you won't do it then?" the voice of the younger dragon was filled with sorrow. He lowered his head and his next words were so quiet that even the deity strained to hear them, "I hate you."

He faded out of sight and Tiamet was left alone in an empty corridor.


	19. Chapter XIX

**Jessi:** Sorry for the late update but I was kind of distracted by results day. I did very well though :)

* * *

Tiamet knelt on the wooden floor of the corridor and closed his eyes. He could still see with his eyes closed, but it was much more different than anything any mortal had seen before. 

Magic flowed in its own path, much like a river. On this magic rich world it was easy to see, an eternity of blue-silver, the very Weave itself. Around the deity it flowed close, like a cat rubbing itself against him.

He deepened his concentration, widening his vision, taking in the city of Waterdeep.

Waterdeep was home to powerful mages and magical artefacts both minor and major. Around the mammal dwelling known as Blackstaff Tower the Weave surrounded it, mixing in with the very mortar itself. To the deity it appeared as a tangled cylinder-shaped mesh of magic.

His son was surprisingly easy to find. Chelevva's body appeared as a silver outline around a brilliant core of magic. From this core magic flowed freely in and out of his polymorphed form. It was odd to see him like this. The strange mix of deities that had brought forth the platinum dragon gave him a vast array of abilities, one of which was to hide within the Weave itself.

"Why are you just sitting there Chelevva," the deity opened his eyes again and stood, "when you can hide yourself even from my sight?"

He spoke an incantation and vanished from the corridor.

* * *

Chel sat huddled on the roof of a tall building, in the shelter of a chimney stack. He hadn't bothered to replace his robes magically or otherwise so the torn material flapped in the wind. His chin rested on his knees and his arms were wrapped about his legs. 

He sensed the ripples in the Weave that meant that someone had teleported onto the roof to his left. His father had come to collect him.

* * *

Tiamet was flung backwards, away from Chelevva. Sparks flared to life as he struggled against the younger dragon's spell with his own magic. Even with his deity's strength he was still pushed slowly backwards along the rooftop. 

"_Enough_!" the Dragon Lord's eyes widened. This shouldn't be happening! His teeth ground against each other as he poured more of his strength into countering the spell. The thin mammal arms trembled violently then each one shattered, the bones now in a thousand pieces, "_Chelevva_!"

As suddenly as it had come the magic stopped. The deity fell to his knees, blood pouring down his useless, limp arms and soaking into the sleeves of his robes. Beneath the dark robes his rake thin chest heaved.

_You haven't regained your full strength. Much of your power still lies about the mountain and this city._

Tiamet looked up as a voice came into his head,

"It was you who spoke to me during my fight with Tiamat."

_Yes._

"And got rid of the vermin?" despite himself the deity smiled, "And I thought you hated me."

There was no reply from the younger dragon and Tiamet walked over to his side, meeting no resistance, his arms healing on the way. Chel did not move, not even when his father sat down next to him.

"Chelevva," said the older dragon finally, "why did you leave Mercuria?"

Chel continued to stare straight ahead, face blank.

"Do you truly hate me?"

An expression of agony crossed the dragon's beautiful face,

"You are my father and my deity. I love you... but..."

"Then why leave? You have everything back at my Court."

"Exactly... I hate the Court. I hate being trotted out as... as some kind of _pet_! I hate the females who swarm over my lair. I hate the endless bowing and scraping. I hate..." Chel trailed off.

"These feelings are not unfamiliar to you. I've been aware of your... depression since your childhood. All of your treasures and honours have not made you happy?"

"No."

"Leaving the Court did not make you happy?"

"No."

"Vengeance against our ancient enemy... the one who caused all of this... this has not made you happy?"

"Does this have a _point_, Father?" Chel glared at his god.

"Allow an old fool one more question please," Tiamet spoke again when his son nodded for him to continue, "What, if anything, has made you happy?"

Chel stared off into the distance. It was a long time before he spoke but when he did his voice was chocked,

"Vale-uke..."

"And you are angry at me because I possessed her and hurt her. If I didn't care about you how would I know that?" the deity leant back, staring up into the sky, "I heard all of your prayers while you have been here. I worried constantly about you and whether you would come back at all but I could not bring myself to force you to come back. You were not happy in Mercuria."

There was a long silence. It was broken by Chel's soft voice,

"But... you like to worry. It gives you something to do."

"...Was that a _joke_ Chelevva?" a smile brightened up the god's face, widening as the younger dragon laid his head on his shoulder, "Poor hatchling," he pulled Chel into a hug, "An elven lover is... an unusual choice but, then again, you have never been a typical dragon."

"I have your blessing, Father?"

"Of course. Consider your stint of chastity done. It may continue, however, if you do not do something. Vale is currently riding out of Waterdeep very fast."

"_What_?"

"Oh, yes," he glanced down at his son's expression of anxiety, "She is already four miles outside the city in that direction," he pointed.

Chel vanished instantly. Alone on the rooftop the deity smiled and turned to watch the sunset.


	20. Chapter XX

**Jessi:** Again a late update. I can explain that in two words: writer's block.

* * *

Vale's memories still taunted her as she rode down the road. Her eyes stung as she fought to keep from crying. She had left Waterdeep in a hurry. She'd been rushing so much that she neglected to bring anything but the clothes she stood up in, the same clothes she'd been wearing when she'd...

Her horse lost its footing briefly and slid in the thick mud, jolting the young sorceress from her thoughts. The gelding steadied itself and Vale slid from the saddle, turning to grasp the bridle.

Lightning flashed behind her, followed closely by a rumble of thunder. The horse reared, completely spooked, the leather reins just out of Vale's reach. She lunged for the bridle but her mount was already galloping away from her, back towards Waterdeep.

For a moment she just stood there, staring after her horse. Finally she slumped to her knees, not caring about the mud, her hands covering her face as she cried. The grey clouds above her finally shed their load and rain began to fall heavily towards the earth. More rumbles of thunder sounded.

Abruptly the rain stopped falling onto her, though she could still hear it hitting the road. She looked up.

Spread over her head was a single white wing, acting as a shelter from the rain. Attached to it was Chel.

* * *

Vale had let Chel take her from her seat in the mud and she now stood shivering in the shelter of a cave. A stream, swelled with rain water, ran partly through the cave, entering it through a hole in the roof.

Chel looked exactly as she had known him for fifty years, as a slender winged elf, dressed all in black. Currently he was knelt over a small pile of kindling, transferring flickering flames from his cupped hand to the wood.

Angrily she turned her back to him to regard the stream with something approaching longing. So caught up in thoughts of baths was she that she did not notice her guardian until he touched her arm lightly.

She flinched and backed away from him, annoyed at the feelings of guilt that blossomed within her when she saw the hurt look that crossed his face.

"The fire is warmer, Vale," he looked away for a brief second then brought his gaze back to her, "If you catch something... your body is too weak to fight off an illness now."

Vale just stood there. Chel wrapped an arm round her shoulders, bringing his mouth close to her pointed ear,

"Please Vale-uke..."

"_No_!" the young elf tore free and ended up pressed against the wall, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. She slid to the ground and closed her eyes, willing him to go away.

A minute later she heard light footsteps heading back to the fire and she turned back.

The water of the stream was glowing oddly. Frowning, Vale knelt and placed a hand into the clear water. It was warm and soft tendrils of steam rose from its surface.

Not caring that it was Chel's magic that had did this, she undressed and got into the water, enjoying the warmth.

* * *

Outside the cave it was still raining. The young elf watched this from her bath, unwilling to leave the warm water. Eventually she sighed and swam to the side, not relishing having to put on her filthy clothes again.

Her tunic and breeches had gone. In their place was a neatly folded pile of clean clothes, topped with a familiar bag of holding.

She had just gotten dressed when something entered the cave. The elf froze at the sight of an immense silver-grey wolf, a oddly long mane of fur grown about its neck. In its mouth it carried two rabbits which it deposited by the fire before brushing past a stunned Vale.

Strange organic sounds came from the darkness behind the young sorceress. She spun and summoned a small globe of light to her hands.

The wolf was lying partly on its side, its fur falling out in droves. Its bare legs were shaping into pale, elven legs and its face was shortening. The mane had turned white and was growing.

She turned, extinguishing the spell with a thought. A minute later Chel, in elven form once more, came from the shadows, fastening the silver clasps on his robe with one hand and carrying his boots with the other. Vale saw that the nails on his hands and bare feet were still those of a wolf, black and curving. Even as she watched they were changing into normal elven ones.

In no time at all the rabbits were on a spit above the fire. Vale's stomach growled at the smell of roasting meat.

Chel looked up at her before waving a hand in the air. Instantly two small loaves of bread appeared in front of the young female.

A moment later only crumbs remained and Vale was watching the rabbits with hungry eyes,

"If you can make food with magic why bother hunting?"

Chel seemed happy just to have his ward talking to him,

"I prefer the honesty of hunting."

Vale's eyes narrowed,

"Honesty?" her very tone was filled with bitterness and anger, "You're a fine one to talk, _Chelevva_."

The male flinched,

"You heard that? Vale, please understand... I wanted to tell you, for all these years I really have," he vanished and reappeared next to his ward. When he tried to hold her, however, she scrambled backwards,

"You _can't_ make this better with kisses and touches! Not after you've been lying to everyone-"

"And how would you have liked me to put it? I thought you were different from all the rest! Why should my race matter to you?"

"It doesn't... but I..." she sighed and stood, "In the morning I'm heading back home... and I don't want you following me."

A cry of pure anguish escaped Chel's lips and, all dignity forgotten, he flung his arms around her waist, burying his head in her stomach,

"No! Oh please no!"

"Chel..."

"I need you! Please don't leave me..."

"_I can't_!" Chel looked up in astonishment at Vale's cry, letting go of her and sitting back on his heels. Vale looked close to tears, "I can't leave you. I _want_ to hate you, I want to despise you for lying to me. But I just can't!" she looked down at his face, seeing the permanent sorrowful expression and the pale, haunted eyes, "I still... I still want to help you."

"I love you Vale. If making my history known to you would make you happy then I will tell you."

The elf paused, her expression and emotions torn. Finally she spoke,

"Tell me then... please, Chel... Chelevva."

Chel bowed his head, thinking of a place to start. Vale sat opposite him, her knees drawn up and her chin resting on them.

"My name is Chelevva Pendragon, though I have been called differently throughout my life," he looked up at her, "You may call me Chel or Chelevva, whichever you prefer.

"I was hatched a long time ago, in my father's realm, Mercuria. This was before the elves came to Faerun... a long time before. The Planes were a different place then. My father was not always the only dragon deity you see. There were once many others and they were at war..."


	21. Chapter XXI

**Jessi:** Now to an interesting bit: Chel's past. This too has changed a lot in the past five years. At first Chel wasn't even a dragon :p

I was tempted in the last chapter to put in some accidental bath time peeking but I thought it sounded too much like Love Hina :D

* * *

"The pantheon was split three ways- the goodly deities under my father, the evil deities under his sister, Tiamat, and a few neutral deities who stood by themselves. 

"This war went on for decades, centuries. Tiamat was getting stronger, stealing the power of the deities she killed. Yet she lost her share of allies too. When I was hatched only three deities remained: Tiamet, Tiamat and..." Chel's eyes closed, a flicker of unidentifiable emotion crossing his face, "my mother, Kereska..."

* * *

_Kereska hummed gently to the nest of nine half-sleeping hatchlings. By the standards of dragon kind she was beautiful with a hide of soft blue-silver. Her eyes were like orbs of pure silver and they glowed, radiating power and wisdom. She was the dragon goddess of magic, once a neutral deity, but now, she smiled, she had nine reasons to cross over to her mate's side._

_Her mate was entering the room now, his heads lowered and his tail dragging on the jewelled floor of his lair._

_The war was taking its toll on Tiamet. Once the beauty of the treasure that made up his palace would have only been outshone by the lustre of the dragon god's jewel-like eyes and metallic scales. Now his armoured skin was covered in blood and scratches and his eyes were dull and lifeless._

_"Lendys is dead," the god sighed and lay on the nearest mound of coins, placing his central head on his paws. _

_"I felt his death," Kereska looked down sadly, the dragon god of balance and justice had been a strong ally, "Tiamat did it?"_

_"She did. Lendys wanted revenge for his lover's death, so he went to Tiamat's realm. Tamara's death drove him mad in the end I fear," he growled, "That bitch has grown so much stronger lately, she shouldn't have been able to defeat Lendys so quickly. He was worth ten of her!" Lendys was an old friend of Tiamet and his death made rage build deep within his chest._

_"We should be thankful that there are not ten of her," when her humour failed to bring light to the other deity's eyes Kereska looked down into the hatchling's nest. _

_Tiamet joined her and his eyes shone with parental pride as he looked at his hatchlings, six sons and three daughters. One opened his eyes briefly, just showing a slit of blue-green before closing both orbs. _

_"I fear for them, my love."_

_"That they should be hatched in this era of war," Tiamet wrapped a wing protectively around his mate, "It does not seem fair."_

* * *

_Time passed._

_Kereska was once again sitting in Tiamet's lair, her hatchlings roaming around the room and amongst the treasure in play. Her mate was busy, calming a power struggle within his church on Troil._

_A heavy footstep sounded outside the room and she looked up to see a five-headed shadow fall across the floor. Happy that her mate had returned she leisurely stood and turned to greet him._

_Massive spars of ice hit her, piercing a wing and a foot, driving deep into her flesh. She screamed, melting the ice with a single word. She looked up to see something so alike her mate but so different. _

_Five heads writhed in the air, each whispering snatches of words or hissing steadily. Venom and drool dripped from each mouth. The blood of many deities stained her claws and horns. A multitude of barbs and hooks decorated her formidable armour. A wyvern spike was on the end of her tail. This was Tiamat, sister and enemy of Tiamet._

_Kereska immediently spoke her own spell. Huge arrows, seemingly made of light arced away from her and into Tiamat's body. The evil deity, however was seemingly not effected by the spell and pounced. _

_The two goddesses bit and clawed at each other. Though Tiamat was the stronger, Kereska fought to protect her hatchlings and nothing was more dangerous than a mother dragon._

_As Kereska bit down into the flesh of the other dragoness she caught a sight of a tiny face peering out from behind a golden statue._

"Run_!" she screamed, and as one her children began fleeing for the open door... which slammed closed before them. _

_Kereska was flung over the other deity, heedless of the flesh that she tore from Tiamat's body in the process. Magic pinned here limbs and head to the wall, holding her fast. _

_The evil deity made another gesture and one of the hatchlings was dragged to her feet, the little dragon digging his claws into the floor, trying to delay the inevitable. Tiamat took the tiny thing in her claws, bringing her face close and cooing in a parody of a loving mother. The goddess of magic struggled violently against her bonds, trying to reach her child._

_"Don't do that little goddess," Tiamat swayed, rocking eerily on her heels, "We have plenty of time. There are more of them after all."_

_The screams of a deity and of hatchlings echoed across Mercuria. _

_But nothing was so terrible as what was happening one of the dark shadowy corners of the lair. Thrown there was a tiny body, bleeding through the huge wound in his back. Though a wound like that would have killed a godling, some spark kept the little heart beating, kept the little hatchling living. _

_However, he heard everything. The deaths of his mother and siblings were neither quick nor painless and he could not block out the sights or the sounds. _

_For hours, lying broken and bleeding on the floor, he watched it, unable to move or turn away. _

_Even after Tiamat left the grisly and bloody scene the images and sounds kept moving through his head. The young and fragile mind of Chelevva Pendragon was broken._


	22. Chapter XXII

**Jessi: **Since I've just started sixth form, the updates are going to be a bit slower but hopefully I'll be able to work on this during my free periods.

* * *

"You saw all this as a child? But how can you remember things from that early on?" Vale had sat riveted throughout Chel's story.

Her guardian swallowed and continued,

"Every god has a perfect memory - even we godlings do. I remember _everything_. Sometimes I-I can still hear the screams... still hear them i-in the dark and I can see..."

Chel's breath now came in ragged sobs and he was trembling violently. Vale darted forward, wrapping her arms around him, pillowing his head on her shoulder,

"Shhh, it's alright. Everything's fine."

She whispered reassurance into his pointed ears and her soft hands stroked his cheek and neck to calm him. Eventually he quieted, though Vale could feel his pulse hammering away in his neck underneath her sensitive fingers. She kissed one of his closed eyes,

"I love you, you idiot."

His eyes opened and he sat up, looking straight at her,

"Really Vale-uke?" when she nodded, a warm smile on her face he continued, "Even... even though I'm..." in an instant Vale had her arm wrapped around a dragon, perfectly proportioned, but only about Vale's size.

"Your race doesn't matter to me," she kissed him on his scaly cheek and grinned even wider, "You are after all, still Chel."

The dragon nuzzled her shoulder, changing as he did back into the form of a winged elf,

"Thank you, thank you! I love you too, Vale-uke."

* * *

An hour later Vale was curled up by the fire, getting some well deserved sleep. Her hands clutched the edge of her blanket, which was actually Chel's black cloak.

Chel himself sat nearby, watching over her. Though he had reconciled himself with his ward he still had a difficult task ahead of him. Having been raised in the house of his deity, having deity blood in his veins, he found not worshipping a deity... unnatural and unwholesome. It was the most natural thing in the world for him to love and worship at the altar of his father, the concept taken hold strongly even within his broken mind.

If he read Vale's mood correctly then she'd lost her faith when Tiamet had possessed her. The two would have to meet and talk... for the sake of the young female's soul.

Sighing, he stood and walked to the stream. His spell was still in effect and the water remained warm. Unable to resist the temptation of a long bath, Chel unbuckled his belt and started to undress.

* * *

When he heard the shuffling from across the cave, Chel turned, his hair trying to raise into a writhing halo but it was too heavy to do so, since it was soaked.

There was no threat however, just the little elf, wrapped up in a much-too-large cloak.

"Vale!" the guardian's voice rose in a protesting tone. When Vale saw the slight silver blush rise on his cheekbones she grinned.

"Yes?" she asked, an innocence expression on her face.

"I do not believe I peeked at you during your bath," Chel folded his arms across his chest, putting his head to one side. It was friendly banter mostly. His hair cascaded around his shoulders, obscuring any view that Vale might want, since he'd gotten rid of his wings for his bath.

"With everything I've been through this past tenday I would have thought I deserved at least one peek," a mock frown crossed her brow, "Damn hair."

He allowed himself a small smile. He was just glad that she did love him. At least it helped him to forget the screams... His smile faded suddenly.

"Chel?" the young sorceress' face was genuinely worried now, "Are you all right?"

"I am," the guardian teleported himself in front of Vale, still in the water. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, "Thank you for your concern."

"You're welcome," Vale let the cloak fall and slid off the bank and into the water, unmindful of the fact that her clothes were getting wet.

_Consider your stint of chastity over._ His father's words echoed in his head and Chel smiled as he held the elf closer.

And for a time Chelevva Pendragon was able to forget all about deities and the screams that haunted him still.

* * *

**Jessi: **I could not resist at least one bath time scene :p 


	23. Chapter XXIII

**Jessi:** I hate you writer's block. :( But I think it was worth the struggle :)

* * *

The day was surprisingly mild for the season of winter. For Vale and Chel it was pleasantly warm underneath the small mound of furs and blankets they had piled over themselves. Each one rested against the other, still half-asleep, even though it was almost noon.

Finally it was Chel who stirred first, stretching like a cat before slowly venturing outside their bed for a look.

A grey, mud-splattered gelding was peacefully cropping at the grass that grew at the entrance to the cave. Sighing the guardian crawled out his bed and walked towards the gelding, magic clothing him in a new black robe. He'd just finished tying the horse to an outcropping of rock when two thin arms wrapped themselves around his waist.

Vale, her only garment a heavy fur that hung to her feet, buried her face in his back, just between the white seraphic wings. Chel smiled happily as he shifted in her arms so he could look at her.

She had lost a lot of weight during her possession and she still hadn't fully recovered. But she was smiling again and she loved him. He picked her up swiftly, cradling her close.

"I don't want you getting ill," he moved away from the cave entrance, magic flowing easily from him. In a instant Vale was clothed again in her usual boyish apparel with the addition of a thick cloak of wolf fur, the pelt white, tipped with black.

"Can't you just use healing magic on me?" Vale's voice was muffled, her head buried against his shoulder.

"You've been exposed to enough magic these past few days. Too much magic will make things worse."

The young elf grinned widely,

"Says the dragon who's mother was a god of magic," she wriggled out of his arms and took his hand, kissing the delicate fingertips. She glanced up at his face and at the serene expression that was there, "Chel? Will you come home with me?"

His eyes widened, his free hand covering his mouth. Out of the blue his whole expression changed. His arm went back to his side. His mouth widened, and for an instant a true smile graced his face, unspoiled by any sorrow or pathos that lurked behind his eyes.

At last he replied,

"It would be an honour, Vale-uke."

* * *

He perched on the roof, his sharp eyes taking in every detail of this human city. Nearly all of his power had returned to him, all that was left was a few wayward scraps of power that hung in the air between the city and the mountain. Every drop would come back to him soon; it really just was a matter of waiting. Tiamet could have chosen to chase after the stray magic himself, but he had unfinished business with the mortal world.

"The mortals would do better without our involvement I think…" he smiled to himself, "If only they themselves knew it…"

A few ripples ran through the Weave and he turned in the direction of the city gates, feeling his son's presence clearly.

"You've returned my wayward cleric to me, my son. Now let us see if we can fix the damage I have caused here." With a mere though Tiamet vanished from the rooftop.

* * *

Vale stepped delicately over the threshold of the paladins' house. Chel was behind her, making no more noise than a shadow. She smiled at him, turning to look around the comfortable entrance hall.

She did not even manage to scream before the lazily thrown magic of the deity slammed the door closed and dragged the heavy bolt across. She backed away, Chel's arms coming around to hold her.

_It'll be alright Vale-uke. Do not be afraid._

The young elf whimpered, burying her head in the soft, dark cloth of her lover's robes,

_Please. I can't face him... not after what he did to me._

_I will protect you. But... I cannot chose between you and my deity... He is my father and I love him. You are my lover and I love you too._

"Perhaps a different room?" The deity softly spoke a single phrase.

The noise of a fire suddenly reached the young sorceress' ears and Chel set her down on a soft carpet.

_Do not be afraid._

With that he got up, his arms leaving her. She grabbed blindly, not daring to open her eyes, for the hem of his robe or the sweeping locks of his hair but these slipped easily out of her grasp and she was alone.

Many minutes passed before she dared to take a look.

Tiamet sat in a chair, shaped like an elf still but dressed like a king in dark, flowing robes, emeralds glittering in his midnight black hair. Dragon's wings grew out of his back and his eyes were those of a dragon. One was a bright green, the other was gold.

Chel sat at his feet, head resting on his father's knee. One pale hand stroked the white hair of the younger dragon, a soft smile on Tiamet's face as he did so.

Vale stretched out her hands,

"Chel...?"

"Vale-chan. I have not seen my son for four thousand years and from what he tells me," he tapped his temple, "I will not see him for a few centuries more."

Silence settled over the room, broken by Tiamet's voice,

"You love my son do you not? Many have fallen in love with him, his face, his melancholy moods, even his power. I myself have been hopelessly enamoured with him ever since he was a child. Of course my love is different to your love, but still..." Chel looked up at his father as he spoke. The deity stroked the blue-green eyes closed and the younger dragon settled back down, "We would do anything for him. Of course the opposite of love is hate and my son has attracted his fair share of _that_," for a brief second there was a flash of wolf-like teeth, "There are those that hurt him, would hurt him still," Chel whimpered softly and Tiamet leant close to him, "Poor hatchling," he kissed his son on the forehead,

"Chelevva has learnt that life is cruel and harsh, but nothing is so bitter as being hurt by one you love and trust," the dragon god knelt by his son, taking him in his arms, the godling's head resting on his shoulder, "Yesterday I realised I did hurt my beloved Chelevva and I have hurt you my cleric,

"I did this accidentally though you may not believe this. When I did possess you I did not realise that your spirit was still bound to it. My spirit dragged yours back to your body, causing you so much pain and if I had not locked your mind away the pain would have driven you mad. I had no choice but to continue for my sister would have stolen my power and used it to return to the Planes. Her retribution on this world would have been devastating.

"I truly thought you dead when I left your body on Mount Waterdeep. We gods are not perfect neither are we all-powerful," he rocked his son back and forth, his eyes closed, "I owe you such a debt Vale-chan. You saved not only my life, but," he turned to her, a smile on his face, "the life of my son too. He... no longer wishes to die! And in many ways... that is more important. Chelevva is the only family I have left. If he would to die, by his own hand or by another's..." he trailed off and shivered, "But all this would be meaningless if I do not have your forgiveness."

He stood, letting go of Chel and walked to the young cleric. The deity knelt before her, his head bowed,

"Vale, please accepted my apologises, such as it is."


	24. Chapter XXIV

**Jessi:** Lately it's been harder finding things to say in my introductions than it's actually been to write the actual fan fiction... I guess I just don't have much to say, quite unlike real life :p

* * *

Vale's slap was more like a blow, her fist slightly clenched as she hit the dragon god across his unseen face. Chel's eyes widened in shock and he was up on his feet almost instantly, seeking to divert his deity's wrath from his ward.

"Why doesn't anyone just _say_ these things!" the young cleric's hands were clenched tightly into the material of her tunic, "Why does everyone have to keep secrets? It would have been so much easier if you had just _said something_!"

For a moment the entire room was still. Then Tiamet abruptly roared with laughter, his arms wrapped around his sides. With an audible sigh of relief Chel sat back down.

"Truer words have never been spoken!" having gotten his laughter under control, the deity sat back, his legs stretched out of the carpet, a mirthful smile still decorating his face. A serious expression quickly took its place, "Vale-chan, the questioning pupil of Chelevva Pendragon, with wisdom and strength beyond her years," he glanced across at his son, "Yes, I can see way she got under your guard Chelevva."

The female elf was suddenly struck by how alike the father and son looked, even in forms that were not there own. The deity before was still the one whose statutes she'd played under as a child, still the one she kept a child-like, innocent affection for throughout her fifty years. This deity had apologised to her and to his own son, to which he also held a great love for. He loved all his worshippers, whilst still on the knife-like edge of neutrality.

He stiffened as she hugged him, burying her head in the midnight-black strands of hair.

"My Lord Tiamet, I forgive you."

"Ah, such formality Vale-chan," he turned in her arms returning the embrace. He smelt of the sky, Vale realised, and of home. She felt something brush her neck and heard the snap of a clasp. When she felt the warmth flood through it, she realised the object was her holy symbol. Her deity kissed her forehead, "You have the protection of two immortals now, little elfling."

Tiamet drew the young cleric to her feet, stepping away deftly,

"I must leave the Prime Material Plane now. I have a kingdom to get back to," he embraced Chel warmly, "Go back to your adopted forest home Chelevva, and know that Mercuria is always open to you."

Chel replied in words too quiet for Vale to hear then stood on tip-toes to kiss his father on the forehead.

"And you, Vale-chan. Take care of my son," he bent to kiss her hand, a strangely mammal gesture for a dragon god, "I will hear your prayers."

With that he was gone in a soft shower of silver sparks that faded into the air as they watched.

* * *

"So he's gone," Vale wandered back over to Chel, absently wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He nodded,

"Yes. It has been a strange time."

"Hmm... It seems like a lifetime ago when we sitting by that fire... but it can't have been more than a tenday," she touched the symbol around her neck, "The Stars are warm again."

"That is not the only difference," Chel lifted Vale's Star of Tiamet in front of her eyes. The symbol, just this morning made of silver had changed,

"A... a platinum star?" the young elf's eyes widened, "He made _me _a high priestess? B-but I'm only fifty... I'm too young! I shouldn't even be a fully-fledged priestess yet!"

"Didn't the king, the high priests and myself decide that your talents more than make up for your sparse years?"

"Yes, b-but that's only because I was taught by you..."

"I taught you personally because of your potential," he kissed her cheek, his long lashes brushing her face as his eyes closed, "If you became a priestess at such a young age, why not a _high_ priestess?"

Vale's answer was merely to smile and kiss him back,

"I've missed you."

"Are you ready to go back? Back home?"

She nodded.

The door opened and the twins cautiously stuck their heads through the doorway,

"Is he gone?"

* * *

**Jessi: **I think after that the paladins would be glad to see Tiamet go ;)


	25. Chapter XXV

Vale took one worried glance at the full-length mirror before turning away quickly.

"I said to take a real look," Chel, from his seat on their bed, continued staring at her with his piercing gaze. The new high priestess stared back, until she was forced to blink, rubbing at her watering eyes,

"Don't you blink?" she complained, looking back at him, purposely avoiding the mirror.

"Not if I don't have to," replied the dragon, who stood, his slender elven hands carefully adjusting his habitual black robes. Standing behind Vale he wrapped his arms around her waist, gently turning her to face the mirror, "Go on. There's nothing to be afraid of."

Biting her lip, the young elf looked at her reflection. Her deity had seen to it that she was fully equipped for her new post as high priestess. This included several set of everyday robes and a more ornate set of formal robes. Even her two daggers, which had vanished somewhere during her possession, had returned to the sheaths on her belt.

Vale's robes consisted of a platinum robe slashed to reveal the blue material underneath it. A blue sash was wrapped around her slim waist and to complete the outfit there was a black, open-fronted robe with long sleeves.

"You look beautiful, Vale-uke."

She smiled and leant back against Chel,

"Not as beautiful as you I fear." The dragon's only response was to laugh softly.

* * *

"Thank you for everything," Vale hugged both the paladins as they stood outside the wooden boarding house they owned. Chel stood a little way away, his hands clasped together in front of him and the hood of his cloak down. There was a serene expression on his lovely face.

"It'll be... quiet without you two," Keroigar ruffled her hair affectionately, a smile on his face.

"You are sure that you don't need an escort?" Samera spoke in his identical voice. Vale shook her head,

"We'll be fine."

She stepped away, taking Chel's offered hand. She looked back, smiled and was gone.

A second later a massive dragon arrowed across the sky of Waterdeep, flapping its wings once to avoid the city walls, then was gone.

* * *

Tiamet Pendragon stood at the summit of Mount Waterdeep, watching his son fly off to the east. Though there were many people up here, repairing the damage caused they didn't notice him. One soldier changed his course without realising it.

_Hello brother._

The shade of Tiamat floated across to him.

"My hunch was correct, you did survive Chelevva's attack."

_If you can call _this _surviving,_ she gestured to her ghostly body.

"You sound remarkably lucid."

_I have my moments. But they grow fewer. In my mortal body I haven't had one of these sane moments for seven hundred years._

"Then why aren't you hiding, plotting my demise?" the deity and the shade began walking across to the Celestial Stairway where Tiamet took a seat.

_Isn't obvious? I want the deific death, I want oblivion. I do not want to be a drooling mad wreck of a goddess,_ the shade sat down too, _I did a lot of research into this, before the War. There are spells I put on myself so I could survive anything you or your spawn could deal to me. I cannot be killed... unless I so wish. _

"And you want me to kill you?"

The shade turned to him,

_Believe me when I say that I hate you. I despise you. You are my reflection, my antithesis. But I do respect you brother, at least when I was sane. Will you kill me and end this damn war? End my wretched existence!_

Tiamet solemnly nodded and reached out a hand.

Magical energy roared and the shade was instantly consumed. A smile formed on the other deity's face before she vanished.

His job done Tiamet willed himself back to his kingdom.

* * *

The valley was golden in the light of the late afternoon. To Vale it was the most beautiful sight she'd seen in a long time. Her eyes were drawn to the vast forest that filled the verdant valley. Her home.

The scene blurred before her eyes as the tears welled up.

"Vale-uke?" Chel dabbed at the tears with his voluminous sleeve, "You are alright?"

Vale looked up at him,

"I'm... home..." abruptly she dropped to her knees, "Fy daear! Fy glawd! Mi dychwelyd!"

Chel smiled as the young cleric cried out in her native tongue: My soil! My land! I have returned!

* * *

The pair walked beneath the high, leafy boughs. Unusually their was no sign of any of the elves, any that wanted to be seen anyway. A few times Vale caught sight of a flash of blond hair or of blue eyes staring out at them.

They headed straight for the Temple, passing the buildings of the city, graceful and elegant homes in magically-hollowed out trees that remained living.

The Temple was the largest and grandest building in the forest. White stone steps ran up to the entrance which was a magnificently carved archway with heavy doors of bronze, oak and iron. There were dents in these door from the orc siege almost a thousand years ago.

A huge statue of Tiamet adorned the square before the entrance, watching the coming and goings of the elves with flawless eyes of emerald, amethyst and golden topaz.

Vale and Chel settled down on the bottom step, their legs stretched out in front of them.

Nervously Vale glanced about. There still was no sign of anyone.

"They'll be here Vale. Don't worry," her guardian gently squeezed her hand.

No sooner had he finished his sentence than two of the Guards dropped heavily to the ground.

The elves of the Guard had cloths wrapped round their heads, obscuring their sight. That in no way hampered their fighting ability. Their mounts acted as their eyes.

The mounts of all of Vale's people were, of course, dragons, even if they were the lesser dragons known as wyverns. The wyverns of the Guard were huge and armoured lightly in thin elven steel.

Spears were pointed in the direction of Vale and Chel but uncertainly so. Chel was instantly recognisable with his pale skin, white hair and wings and his black clothing and, even after all this time the guardian commanded instant respect.

A eerie hissing arose from the Guards. It was a sign that they were communicating among themselves. They stopped and one wyvern roared.

It was a sign for the watching elves to come out of hiding. Vale shifted, a little embarrassed, on her seat. Some of the elves were from the Scouts or the Armsmen. Behind them, emerging from the Temple were those of the Clergy. But most were ordinary elves she'd grown up with.

Chel touched her head decorating it with a silver circlet. A murmuring arose from the crowd and was at once silenced as wyvern landed on the ground.

The wyvern was massive, the largest in the forest and the patriarch of the wyvern clan. He was covered in old battle scars and one of his ears had been torn off.

"Hello Gram," whispered Vale before transferring her gaze to the elf sliding off Gram's back.

This elf was tall for his kind and was trying to force his arms through the sleeves of a silk robe to hide the plain hunting leathers he wore. Then, with barely a though, he abandoned the garment, ran to Vale and embraced her.

"Vale..."

"...Father," Vale looked up into her father's face. His eyes, the exact same shade of blue as Vale's, were brimming with tears. The circlet of white metal he wore was askew and his bow was still slung over his shoulder. There was a dab of mud on his cheek.

She burst into tears and hugged him back,

"You still the same Father," she sniffed.

"It is so good to see you... high priestess," her father lifted his eyebrows but then grinned widely (another thing Vale had inherited from him), "You're still the same too."

He turned, one arm still holding his daughter, his other hand straightening his crown,

"The princess and the Imperial Guardian have returned!"

There was a moment of silence then her people began to cheer. Even Gram and the Guard wyverns gave rattling cries that were almost like cheers.

The elven princess looked out at the celebrating elves then turned, smiling, to her father and her guardian,

"I'm home!"

Chel smiled,

"We both are."

**THE END**

* * *

**Jessi:** And so it is done... Well I must say that this story has changed a lot as well as taking up a lot of time over the past five years. And to see the end result... it is almost unbelievable. Two books, twenty-eight chapters and over thirty thousand words... not to mention all the reviews I've gotten.

**Thank you to everyone who has read or reviewed this story. **Thank you for putting up with slow updates, rewrites and spelling errors. Thanks guys ;)

As for if I'll write another Dragon God Chronicles... I simply do not know. I _do_ know, however, that I would be very sad to abandon Chel and Vale. So maybe... Maybe...

Thank you again.

Jessica Doyle

2nd October 2005


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